The  Plays 
of  Eugene  Brieux 


By  P.  V.  THOMAS 


The  Plays  of 

Eugene  Brieux 


By  P.  V.  Thomas 


Boston 
John  W.  Luce  &  Company 

MCMXV 


Copyright  1914 
BY  L.  E.  BASSETT 


PRESS   OF  MURRAY  AND    EMERY   COMPANY 
CAMBRIDGE,   MASSACHUSETTS 


FOREWORD 

The  following  analysis  and  critique  of  the  plays  of 
Eugene  Brieux,  as  originally  prepared  by  P.  V.  Thomas 
of  University  College,  London,  retained  in  the  original 
French  such  extracts  from  the  plays  as  are  included, 
and  in  most  instances  the  same  policy  was  pursued  in 
regard  to  the  quotations  from  French  critics. 

In  offering  this  book  to  the  American  public,  which 
so  generally  has  evinced  an  interest  in  the  work  of  this 
dramatist,  it  has  been  deemed  wise  to  translate  the 
passages  referred  to.  In  that  connection  special  thanks 
are  due  to  Henry  M.  Wing,  Esq.,  of  the  Boston  Bar, 
whose  familiarity  with  the  courts  and  judicial  procedure 
of  France  has  been  of  the  highest  service  in  the  rendition 
of  the  important  chapter  devoted  to  La  Robe  Rouge. 

As  envoy  of  the  French  Academy  to  the  annual 
meeting  of  the  American  Academy  of  Arts  and  Letters, 
1914,  Brieux,  in  the  course  of  his  address,  with  cus- 
tomary frankness  and  modesty,  touched  at  some 
length  on  his  plays. 

No  better  understanding  of  the  man  and  his  purposes 
can  be  gathered  than  from  his  own  words,  expressed 
on  this  occasion,  when  he  said: 

"  I  am  going  to  speak  to  you  rather  of  what  I  have 
wished  to  do  than  of  what  I  have  done.  It  is  in  the 
United  States  that  the  nature  of  my  efforts  has  been 
best  understood.  In  Paris,  I  must  admit  it  here,  in 
the  extreme  Parisian  circle  and  also  among  the  pure 
artists,  the  moralizing  form  of  my  plays  has  been  some- 
what scorned.  They  call  me  derisively  'Honest 


iv  FOREWORD 

Brieux,'  and  because  I  am  the  son  of  a  workingman 
they  have  also  dubbed  me  the  'Tolstoy  of  the  Temple 
district.'  I  have  not  felt  belittled  by  this. 

"If  one  seeks  to  find  in  my  work  a  guiding  principle 
he  will  find  there  a  constant  tendency  to  protest 
against  the  abuse  of  power  in  its  various  forms.  Tyrants 
are  found  not  only  upon  thrones,  but  around  the  family 
hearth,  and  particularly  in  Latin  countries  there  are 
humble  bourgeois,  modest,  venerable,  with  kindly 
faces,  who  are  really  detestable  despots  and  who  hold 
in  bondage  their  wives  and  their  children.  Take  note 
that  such  a  man  is  a  worthy  and  an  honest  man; 
he  sins  only  through  a  pride  of  which  he  is  ignorant; 
he  is  convinced  that  he  knows  better  than  his  children 
what  is  best  suited  to  them. 

"Besides  the  power  of  a  parent,  the  power  most  to 
be  feared  that  men  have  taken  upon  themselves  is 
that  of  the  physician  and  also  that  of  the  judge.  With- 
out doubt  it  is  necessary  that  there  should  be  physicians, 
since  there  are  sick  people,  and  that  there  should  be 
judges,  since  there  are  criminals;  but  just  think  that, 
according  to  the  saying,  very  often  the  part  of  the 
physician  limits  itself  to  forcing  drugs  that  he  knows 
little  into  a  body  which  he  does  not  know  at  all.  Judges 
of  course  inflict,  sometimes  carelessly,  very  heavy 
punishments  and  condemn  human  beings  to  sufferings 
which  they  cannot  understand  for  faults  of  which 
they  do  not  know  the  origin. 

"I  have  made  a  study  of  such  a  case  in  the  play 
entitled  'La  Robe  Rouge,'  just  as  I  have  studied  the 
case  of  the  physician  in  'L'Evasion.'  Other  plays 
have  condemned  the  abuse  of  paternal  authority. 


FOREWORD  v 

There  is  much  more  to  be  written.  The  abuse  of  the 
power  of  money,  of  the  press,  of  free  speech  and  of 
politics  —  all  these  should  be  condemned. 

"I  have  the  profound  conviction  that  the  theatre 
may  be  a  valuable  means  of  instruction.  I  should 
not  limit  its  ambition  to  amusing  spectators.  One 
must  admit  also  that  the  theatre  has  the  right  from 
time  to  time,  at  any  rate,  to  touch  upon  the  most 
serious  questions  and  the  most  vital  topics. 

"I  wish  through  the  theatre  not  only  to  make 
people  think,  to  modify  habits  and  facts,  but  still 
more  to  bring  about  laws  which  appear  to  me  desirable. 
I  have  wished  that  the  amount  of  suffering  upon  the 
earth  might  be  diminished  a  little  because  I  have  lived. 
I  have  the  great  satisfaction  to  have  accomplished  it, 
and  I  know  that  two  of  my  plays,  'Les  Remplacantes' 
and  *Les  Avaries'  ('Damaged  Goods')  have  helped 
to  save  the  lives  of  some  and  to  make  the  lives  of  others 
less  burdensome. 

"  I  claim  no  credit  for  it.  I  have  acted  according  to 
my  instincts.  I  could  not  have  done  other  than  1 
did.  I  was  born  with  the  soul  of  an  apostle  —  again 
let  me  say,  I  have  no  vanity  in  this,  I  did  not  make 
myself  —  but  the  sight  of  suffering  in  others  has 
always  been  unbearable  for  me." 


CONTENTS 

CHAPTER  I 

PAGE 

THE  MAN I 

CHAPTER  II 

PLAYS  PREVIOUS  TO  "BLANCHETTE" 5 

Bernard  Palissy  —  Le  Bureau  des  Divorces  —  La  Fttle 
de  Durame  —  Manages  a*1  Artistes. 

CHAPTER  III 

PLAYS  FROM  BLANCHETTE  TO  LA  ROBE  ROUGE      .        .         .13 

Blanchette  —  M.  de  Reboval  —  La  Couvie  —  L'En- 
grenage  —  La  Rose  Bleue  —  Les  Bienfaiteurs  —  U  Evasion 
—  Les  Trois  Filles  de  M.  Dupont  —  L'Ecole  des  Belles- 
Mires  —  Resultat  des  Courses  —  Le  Berceau. 

CHAPTER  IV 
LA  ROBE  ROUGE 50 

CHAPTER  V 

PLAYS  FROM  1901-1909 70 

Les  Remplafantes  —  Les  Avaries  —  La  Petite  Amie  — 
Materniti  —  La  Deserteuse  —  L 'Armature  —  Les  Hanne- 
tons  —  La  Fran^aise  —  Simone  —  Suzette. 

CHAPTER  VI 
BRIEUX  AND  THE  SOCIAL  PLAY     .  .  .  100 


The  Plays  of  Eugene  Brieux 


M, 


Chapter  I 

The  Man 

BRIEUX  first  received  me  just  after  his  return 
•  •  from  the  East  and  a  little  before  his  reception 
at  the  Academy,  but  there  was  nothing  exotic  or  pom- 
pous about  him.  Simple,  cordial,  and  very  accessible: 
tall,  big,  easy  in  manner,  with  a  sound,  practical  grip 
of  things,  and  a  fighter  —  not  filled  with  a  fussy  pug- 
nacity, but  still  a  fighter  —  not  too  hard  to  rouse,  and 
a  very  hard  hitter  when  roused.  For  the  rest,  simple, 
direct,  not  modest,  not  assertive,  full  of  the  right  sort 
of  pride,  and  plenty  of  vanity,  doubtless.  Capable  of 
being  very  serious,  but  not  deadly  serious.  Keen  and 
interested  at  once,  with  the  native  curiosity  and  shrewd- 
ness of  a  peasant.  Not  a  specialist.  A  very  human 
man  in  every  way,  simple  and  straightforward,  with 
the  absorbing  eye  of  an  observer  and  the  jaw  of  a 
fighter. 

The  details  of  his  life  are  barely  sufficient  to  piece 
together  —  he  has  always  refused  to  talk  about  himself: 
"My  private  life,"  he  says,  "does  not  concern  the 
public."  Such  a  desire  for  privacy  must  be  respected. 
He  was  born  in  Paris  in  1858.  His  father  was  a  working 
man,  a  carpenter  in  the  Quartier  du  Temple,  and  unable 
to  give  him  anything  more  than  the  ordinary  schooling. 


2         THE  PLAYS  OF  EUGENE  BRIEUX 

The  Ecole  Primaire  and  the  Ecole  Primaire  SupSrieure 
(Ecole  Turgot)  was  all  the  education  that  was  ever 
given  him.  He  did  not  distinguish  himself  at  school 
in  any  marked  degree,  nor  did  he  disgrace  himself. 
His  Academician's  sword  was  presented  to  him  by  the 
Ecole  Turgot.  At  fifteen  he  began  to  work  for  his 
living  as  a  clerk.  It  has  been  said  that  he  began  life 
as  a  workman,  but  this  is  incorrect.  He  did  not, 
however,  stop  learning.  Reading  with  him  was  a 
veritable  passion.  He  spent  not  only  his  leisure,  but 
all  his  savings  on  books  —  whatever  books  came 
to  his  hand;  not,  however,  illustrated  papers  and 
popular  novels,  but  famous  masterpieces,  and  pref- 
erably the  Classics.  He  was  a  very  good  customer 
of  the  popular  series  known  as  the  Bibliothbque  Na- 
tionale,  which,  for  the  sum  of  twenty-five  centimes, 
places  within  the  reach  of  all  the  masterpieces  of 
every  tongue.  It  was  in  this  way  that  Goethe's 
Faust  was  revealed  to  him  and  intoxicated  him.  He 
spent  night  after  night  reading,  %  sometimes  on  the 
public  staircase  of  the  house  in  which  he  lived,  by  the 
light  of  the  miserable  gas-jet,  in  order  to  save  the  cost 
of  candles.  He  had,  too,  a  passion  for  Chateaubriand, 
the  influence  of  whose  Christianism  has  been  strong 
during  the  whole  of  the  nineteenth  century.  The 
young  Brieux  was  filled  with  religious  ardour,  and 
had  serious  thoughts  of  becoming  a  missionary.  The 
ardour  has  remained  an  essential  part  of  his  tempera- 
ment, though  the  dogma  has  been  changed  under  the 
influence  of  Spencerian  philosophy.  Gradually  he 
began  to-  read  in  more  ordered  fashion,  and  started 
to  learn  Latin  and  Greek  without  any  other  aid  than 


THE  MAN  3 

that  of  grammar  and  dictionary.  He  soon  gave  up 
Greek,  but  persevered  with  Latin,  and  acquired  a 
fair  knowledge  of  it.  Literary  ambitions  were  not 
slow  to  follow.  He  began  to  write  plays  early,  and 
continued  to  write  them  in  what  leisure  was  left  to 
him  after  his  day's  work  was  done,  though  his  success 
was  not  better  than  is  usually  the  case.  Manuscripts 
passed  from  manager  to  manager  without  being  read. 
At  last,  in  1879,  when  he  was  just  over  twenty,  his 
first  play  was  produced  at  the  The&tre  Cluny,  at  one 
of  the  Matinees  des  Jeunes  —  a  one-act  play  in  verse, 
in  collaboration  with  a  friend,  M.  Gaston  Salandri, 
entitled  Bernard  Palissy.  Only  one  performance 
was  given.  Meanwhile  the  ambitious  young  man 
had  decided  to  throw  up  his  employment  and  take  to 
journalism,  not  as  a  career  satisfactory  in  itself,  but 
as  a  more  likely  road  to  literary  success.  For  seven 
years  he  did  newspaper  work,  first  at  Dieppe,  then 
at  Rouen.  He  still  continued  to  write  plays,  three 
being  produced  between  Bernard  Palissy  and  Blanchette. 
Only  one  of  these,  Manages  d*  Artistes,  calls  for  remark 
here.  This  play  brought  its  author  into  contact  with 
M.  Antoine.  His  first  real  hit  was  made,  in  1892, 
with  Blanchette,  also  produced  by  M.  Antoine.  It  is 
to  M.  Antoine  that  we  owe  the  discovery  of  M.  Brieux; 
and,  more  than  that,  it  is  M.  Antoine  who  gave  him 
the  opportunity  of  learning  his  trade,  of  learning  how 
to  tackle  dramatic  problems,  and  of  collaborating  with 
actors  and  public.  Blanchette  is  the  play  that  made 
M.  Brieux  famous.  He  is  still  referred  to  as  the  author 
of  Blanchette.  It  was  produced  while  he  was  still  at 
Rouen,  but  shortly  after  La  Nouvelliste,  the  newspaper 


4         THE  PLAYS  OF  EUGENE  BRIEUX 

of  which  he  was  editor,  ceased  to  exist,  and  M.  Brieux 
returned  to  Paris  with  the  manuscript  of  M.  de  Reboval 
in  his  pocket.  The  importance  of  his  long  residence 
in  Rouen  can  hardly  be  overestimated;  not  only  did 
he  thus  escape  being  caught  up  in  any  of  the  literary 
fads  and  fancies  of  the  boulevards,  but  also  he  was 
better  able,  in  a  comparatively  small  centre,  such  as 
Rouen,  to  grasp  life  as  a  whole  than  amid  the  com- 
plexities of  the  metropolis.  At  Rouen  he  learnt  as 
editor  to  face  questions  of  public  interest.  Here  he 
acquired  his  experience  of  men  and  affairs.  The 
knowledge  of  provincial  life  thus  acquired  was  to  stand 
him  in  good  stead.  Without  his  sojourn  in  Rouen 
he  would  never  have  written  UEngrenage  or  Blanchette. 
He  quickly  came  to  the  front  with  UEngrenage  (1894) 
and  Les  Trois  Filles  de  M.  Dupont  (1897).  On  his 
return  to  Paris  he  continued  the  profession  of  jour- 
nalism, writing  for  the  Figaro  and  other  papers.  In 
the  exercise  of  his  profession  he  must  have  frequently 
had  occasion  to  attend  the  Law  Courts.  The  fruit 
of  his  lengthy  observations  is  to  be  seen  in  such  a  play 
as  La  Robe  Rouge  (1900).  With  this  play  his  position 
as  an  undoubted  master  is  assured.  With  the  ex- 
ception of  Les  RemplaganUs  (1901),  Les  Hannetons 
(1906),  and  Simone  (1908),  the  later  plays  show  rather 
a  falling  off.  The  energy  needed  to  get  all  the  heavy 
artillery  of  the  Pibce  Sociale  into  action  —  into  dramatic 
action  —  must  be  great.  What  wonder  if  even  the 
energy  of  M.  Brieux  is  sometimes  insufficient.  His 
election  to  the  Academy  in  1910  crowned  his  achieve- 
ments with  the  highest  honour  that  he  could  wish  for 
and  satisfied  a  long-cherished  ambition. 


Chapter  II 

The  Plays  before  Blanchette 

*  I  \HE  plays  that  precede  Blanchette^  namely,  Bernard 
-•-  Palissy,  Le  Bureau  des  Divorces,  Menages  d* Ar- 
tistes, and  La  Fille  de  Durame,  are  not  important,  but 
they  cannot  be  ignored.  The  origins  of  a  man  are 
always  interesting. 

BERNARD  PALISSY.  Drama  in  one  act  in  verse  in 
collaboration  with  G.  Salandri.  Played  for  the  first 
time  the  21  st  of  December,  1879,  at  the  The&tre  Cluny. 

The  scene  is  at  Saintes  about  1560  and  represents  a 
room  on  the  ground  floor  in  the  house  of  Palissy.  The 
red  light  of  furnaces  shows  in  the  background.  There  is 
no  furniture,  even  the  door  is  missing,  everything  made 
of  wood  having  been  burnt  to  fire  the  furnaces. 

The  wife  of  Palissy,  Genevieve,  wishes  to  leave  him 
because,  after  years  of  suffering,  they  have  been  reduced 
to  ruin.  Palissy,  not  content  with  being  the  most 
esteemed  of  glass  painters,  has  lost  everything  by  trying 
to  discover  a  secret  which  he  will  never  find  —  the 
secret  of  making  enamel.  His  daughter,  Jeanne, 
pleads  that  they  must  not  forsake  him.  Amid  the 
insults  and  jeers  of  the  mob  Palissy  enters.  Etienne 
comes  to  his  rescue.  Etienne  loves  Jeanne,  but  his 
father,  Gautier,  who  is  inexorable,  refuses  to  allow  the 
marriage  unless  Palissy  will  give  up  his  chimerical 

5 


6         THE  PLAYS  OF  EUGENE  BRIEUX 

ideas  and  return  to  glass  making.  Etlenne  tries  to 
persuade  Palissy  to  do  this,  but  the  inspired  genius 
cannot  give  up  his  quest,  and  insists  upon  being  allowed 
to  try  once  more.  So  the  family  forsake  him;  but 
soon  his  faithful  daughter  returns  and  persuades 
Palissy  to  give  up,  which  he  consents  to  do  in  a  rage 
at  the  sacrifice  asked.  It  is,  therefore,  the  turn  of 
Jeanne  to  sacrifice  her  love  to  her  father's  glory,  and 
the  grateful  Palissy  returns  to  his  furnaces.  Jeanne's 
lover  returns,  unable  to  give  her  up,  and  later  the 
mother  returns,  unable  to  give  the  father  up.  When 
they  are  once  more  assembled  there  is  a  terrific  ex- 
plosion and  Palissy  enters,  crying  — 

"Lost!    All  is  lost!    All  —  even  my  hope!" 

After  a  mad  outburst  he  goes  despairingly  towards 
his  workshop. 

"  But  a  moment  ago  my  faith  was  complete. 
The  secret  was  there.     My  hope  was  exalted; 
Now  nothing  remains."  ... 

Going  off  the  stage,  he  suddenly  bursts  out  with  — 
"Have  I  seen?  Do  I  dream  this  wonderful  substance? 
Great  God!  It  is  found." 

In  spite  of  the  explosipn  the  secret  of  the  enamel  has 
been  found.  Every  one  asks  his  pardon,  maxims  float 
across  the  footlights  to  the  effect  that  conception  is 
good,  perseverance  better.  Then  the  play  ends  with 
an  exordium  to  the  glory  of  France  —  the  real  glory 
of  France,  the  glory  that  is  better  than  military  glory, 
the  glory  of  her  great  men.  "Et  cela"  (meaning 
military  glory) — 

"And  that  is  not  worth,  although  one  obtain  it, 
A  single  step  toward  the  unknown." 


THE  PLAYS  BEFORE  BLANCHETTE    7 

It  is  all  very  high-minded.  This  is  the  only  play  by 
M.  Brieux  in  verse.  The  passages  quoted  suffice  to 
show  that  he  was  not  misguided  in  choosing  prose  for 
his  medium  of  expression. 

THE  DIVORCE  OFFICE,  published  in  1880,  but 
apparently  never  played,  is  a  vaudeville  in  one  act, 
satirizing  the  new  Divorce  Law  which  had  just  been 
passed.  It  is  very  thin  stuff,  stale  and  not  amusing 
—  cheap  farce;  but  it  indicates  an  interest  in  social 
questions. 

La  Fille  de  Duramt  was  played  a  few  days  later  than 
Menages  d? Artistes,  but  it  may  be  taken  first  for  the 
sake  of  convenience. 

THE  DAUGHTER  OF  DURAM^:.  Melodrama  in  five 
acts.  Played  for  the  first  time  in  Rouen  at  the  Thtdtre 
Franfais,  March  25,  1890. 

The  titles  of  the  five  acts  show  what  sort  of  play  it  is. 
Act      I.    La  F£te  du  Loupvert  £  Jumi£ges. 
Act    II.     La  Bande  de  Duram6. 
Act  III.     Les  Grottes  de  Caumont. 
Act  IV.     Le  Pere  et  la  Fille. 
Act     V.     L'Expiation. 

The  time  the  play  begins  is  Friday,  June  23,  1797, 
le  jour  de  la  Fdte  du  Loupvert. 

It  would  take  too  long  to  give  the  entire  plot,  but  it 
goes  without  saying  that  it  is  as  various,  as  complicated, 
and  as  thrilling  as  a  popular  provincial  audience  could 
desire. 

Duraine"  is  a  brigand,  and  his  daughter  Jeanne  has 
been  changed  in  the  cradle  by  Quatre  Pattes  for  the 
daughter  of  DeVonchelle,  and  Duram6  protects  his 
daughter  without  letting  her  know  that  he,  the  brigand, 


8          THE  PLAYS  OF  EUGENE  BRIEUX 

/ 

is  her  father.    The  woman  Berthe  is  therefore  jealous 

and  clandestinely  carries  Jeanne  off  with  a  small  party 
of  the  brigands  to  the  Grottes  de  Caumont.  Here  the 
jealous  Berthe  starves  Jeanne  in  order  to  make  her 
confess  that  she  loves  Duramd.  But  Duram6  comes 
and  carries  Jeanne  off  to  Rouen  to  the  house  of  De"ron- 
chelle.  Here  Durame  is  recognized  as  a  brigand  with 
a  price  upon  his  head,  so,  having  to  leave,  he  tries  to 
persuade  Jeanne  to  go  with  him;  but  she  high-mindedly 
refuses  to  depart  with  a  brigand.  The  gendarmes 
come  and  Durame  declares  Jeanne  to  be  his  daughter. 

"Oh,  may  a  curse  fall  on  her!" 

Jeanne  (with  a  shriek) .  Oh !  (She  falls  on  her  knees.) 
Forgive  me! 

In  the  last  act  Durame*  is  guillotined  -and  Jeanne  re- 
established as  the  daughter  of  De"ronchelle. 

All  art  is  collaboration  —  great  is  the  influence  of  an 
audience!  From  such  a  play  who  could  foretell  the 
author  of  Blanchette,  VEngrenage^  and  Les  Trois  Filles 
de  M.  Dupont?  These  three  plays  seem  very  far  off. 
Manages  d* Artistes  deserves  more  attention,  for  with 
it  the  real  career  of  M.  Brieux  begins. 

MENACES  D'  ARTISTES.1  Comedy  in  three  acts. 
Played  for  the  first  time  at  the  Thedtre  Libre,  March  21, 
1890. 

Jacques  Tervaux,  a  would-be  poet,  has  married  an 
ordinary  middle-class  woman,  who  believes  that  her 
husband  is  a  genius  and  sacrifices  everything  to  his 
career.  '  Her  dowry  has  been  swallowed  up  to  pay  for 
the  publication  of  his  works,  her  jewelry  and  posses- 
sions are  going  too.  But  she  still  believes  in  him  — 
is  he  not  idolized  by  the  circle  that  surround  him? 

»Arti8t's  Households. 


THE  PLAYS  BEFORE  BLANCHETTE    9 

She  does  not  know  that  the  members  of  the  circle  are 
worthless  impostors.  Their  symbolist  jargon,  their 
"  triunionism,"  is  impressive  to  her.  And  the  beautiful 
Emma  Vernier,  the  muse  who  inspires  them  all,  is 
wonderful  to  Madame  Tervaux;  and  is  she  not  going 
to  found  a  paper  devoted  to  poetry  and  the  arts,  and 
to  make  her  husband  famous?  But  the  mother  of 
Madame  Tervaux  sees  that  Jacques  is  in  love  with 
Emma  and  turns  her  out  of  the  place.  Jacques  follows 
her.  In  the  last  act  the  paper  is  founded,  Jacques 
is  the  director  and  the  beautiful  Emma  is  his  mistress. 
But  the  paper  is  not  a  success,  and  Emma,  discovering 
that  the  poet  is  a  bag  of  wind,  withdraws  her  financial 
support  and  goes  off  with  another  man.  Jacques, 
dishonoured  and  ruined,  commits  suicide. 

The  play  is  a  "play  unpleasant" —  a  ptice  rosse,  after 
the  The&tre  Libre  pattern,  more  or  less. 

It  must  always  be  remembered  that  M.  Brieux  began 
at  the  Thedtre  Libre,  that  he  is  one  of  M.  Antoine's  men. 
This  play  was  not  a  success.  The  only  point  worth 
noting  is  the  attempt  to  satirize  the  extravagances  of 
the  Symbolist  Poets,  the  fads  and  fancies  of  artistic 
Paris.  It  is  the  scorn  of  honest,  plebeian  common 
sense  for  all  the  poses  and  snobbery  of  the  artist  in 
splendid  isolation,  aloof  from  the  contamination  of 
ordinary  virtuous  life — a  very  legitimate  subject  for 
satire.  But,  in  order  to  satirize,  it  is  well  to  understand 
the  thing  satirized,  and  M.  Brieux  did  not  understand 
the  Symbolist  movement.  The  result  is  that  the  fun 
he  makes  of  it  is  rather  beside  the  point.  It  is  cheap 
ridicule  and  falls  flat.  As  Sarcey  says  — 

"Manages  d' Artistes  (Artists*  Households)  seems  to 


io       THE  PLAYS  OF  EUGENE  BRIEUX 

us  a  very  juvenile  play.  It  claims  to  draw  aside  the 
curtain  and  show  us  the  world  of  the  young  poets  and 
artists  of  the  new  d6cadent-symboliste  school,  among 
others.  I  have  some  difficulty  in  believing  that  they 
are  such  foolish  and  vicious  little  fellows  as  M.  Eugene 
Brieux  has  made  them.  If  the  portraiture  is  true  it 
has  not  the  appearance  of  being  so." 

A  small  sample  will  serve  to  prove  the  truth  of  this. 

Act  I.  Scene  8.  Feule.  Are  not  word  pictures 
perfectly  adequate  for  the  suggestion  of  the  tone  of  color, 
and  indeed  the  vibrant  tone  of  atmospheric  atoms? 
I  will  convince  you  with  a  word:  the  resplendency  of 
calms,  the  shadow-depths  of  cataclysms.  Is  it  not 
ideal?  What  can  you  say  to  that? 

Jacques.    Nothing,  it  is  quite  evident. 

D'Estombreuse.  Every  idea,  every  person,  every 
object  has  a  color  and  a  musical  tonality. 

Feule.  The  bassoon  is  green,  the  violin  blue,  the 
trumpet  red. 

D'Estombreuse.    To  be  sure! 

Feule.    The  same  as  the  infinite  —  the  infinite  — 

Jacques.  —  How  about  that? 

Feule.  It  is  G  natural — (singing)  Tum-m-m! 
That's  the  infinite.  And  God  —  you  know  the  key 
God  is  in? 

Jacques.     No. 

Feule  (shocked).  Oh,  oh!  he  doesn't  know  —  why, 
in  C  major,  my  dear  fellow. 

The  Doctor  (aside}.  And  the  wonder  of  it  is  that 
they  appear  to  understand  each  other! 

Feule.    Be  a  Triunionist,  old  fellow. 


THE  PLAYS  BEFORE  BLANCHETTE   n 

Jacques.  I'll  think  it  over  —  A  drop  of  cognac, 
please? 

Veule.     Surely.1 

The  truth  is  that  M.  Brieux  has  always  remained 
aloof  from  the  world  of  art,  is  not  "a  man  of  taste," 
and  never  had  any  ambition  to  become  one.  This 
is  at  once  a  source  of  strength  and  a  limitation.  It  is 
to  emphasize  this  fact  that  so  much  space  has  been 
given  to  Menages  d*  Artistes. 

This  was  the  first  play  by  M.  Brieux  produced  by  M. 
Antoine.  Before  .going  any  further  something  should 
be  said  of  the  relations  between  the  two  men,  if  only  by 
way  of  tribute  to  one  who  is  undoubtedly  the  most 
remarkable  homme  de  theatre  France  has  known  in  this 
generation.  A  large  majority  of  the  well-known  drama- 
tists of  to-day  issued  from  the  Theatre  Libre,  having 
been  discovered  and  launched  by  M.  Antoine  just  as 
M.  Brieux  was. 

Manages  d*  Artistes  came  to  M.  Antoine  from  Rouen 
from  an  entirely  unknown  author  in  the  ordinary  way, 
after  the  Theatre  Libre  had  been  in  existence  for  about 
two  years  and  had  already  established  itself  at  the 
Menus  Plaisirs.  Since  then  M.  Antoine  has  produced 
six  plays  by  M.  Brieux  (either  at  the  Theatre  Libre,  the 
Theatre  Antoine,  opened  in  1897,  or  the  Odeon,  of  which 
M.  Antoine  became  director  in  1906),  namely,  Blanchette, 
Resultat  des  Courses,  Les  Remplagantes,  Les  A  varies, 
Maternite,  and  La  Fran$aise.  As  P£re  Rousset,  in 
Blanchette,  and  P£re-la-Joie,  in  Resultat  des  Courses,  M. 

*  The  irony  of  M.  Anatole  France  makes  the  extravagance  of  the 
Symbolists  infinitely  more  ridiculous  than  this  scene  by  M.  Brieux. 
(Cf.  Vie  Litter  air e,  II,  p.  5.) 


12       THE  PLAYS  OF  EUGENE  BRIEUX 

Antoine  contributed  largely  to  the  success  of  the  piece 
by  his  acting.  The  two  men  appreciate  each  other  and 
have  remained  firm  friends.  The  dedication  of  Blan- 
chette  is  an  eloquent  document :: — 

"To  Andr6  Antoine.  My  dear  friend:  For  ten  years 
I  have  hawked  my  manuscripts  at  all  the  theatres  of 
Paris.  Usually  they  have  not  even  been  read.  Thanks 
to  you,  thanks  to  the  The&tre  Libre,  I  at  last  had  the 
opportunity  to  learn  my  metier  of  dramatic  author,  and 
here  is  the  second  play  which  you  will  have  produced 
for  me  in  only  two  years.  It  is  my  desire  to  thank 
you  publicly, 

"  BRIEUX. 

"  February  2,  1892." 


Chapter  III 

From  Blanchetle  to  La  Robe  Rouge 
1892-1900 

THE  plays  of  this  decade  are,  in  the  main,  attacks 
on    various    public    institutions    of    society,    all 
important  parts  of  the  social  machinery. 
Education  —  Blanchette. 
Politics  —  UEngrenage. 
Charity  —  Les  Bienfaiteurs. 
•  Medicine  —  L 'Evasion. 
Justice  —  La  Robe  Rouge. 

M.  de  Rgboval,  La  Couvee,  L'Ecole  des  Eelles-mkres^ 
Le  JBerceau,  all  have  a  bearing  on  the  more  intimate 
institution  of  the  family,  and  already  indicate  our 
author's  preoccupation  with  the  position  of  the  child, 
attacking  from  this  point  of  view  the  liaison,  the  fussi- 
ness  of  parents,  the  interference  of  mothers-in-law,  and 
divorce.  Les  Trois  Filles  de  Af.  Dupont  deals  with  the 
institution  of  marriage. 

After  Blanchette  M.  Brieux  was  famous;  with  La  Robe 
Rouge  he  reaches  the  top  of  the  tree  and  might  have 
rested  on  his  laurels  had  he  so  chosen. 

BLANCHETTE.  Comedy  in  three  acts  in  prose.  First 
played  at  the  Theatre  Libre,  February  2,  1892,  and 
proved  a  great  success.  Later  it  was  taken  on  tour. 
As  it  was  one  of  the  prime  favorites  of  all  the  TMdtre 

if 


14       THE  PLAYS  OF  EUGENE  BRIEUX 

Libre  plays  and  a  certain  draw,  it  was  revived  by  M. 
Antoine  for  the  opening  of  the  The&tre  Antoine,  Septem- 
ber 29,  1897.  In  1903  it  was  adopted  by  the  Comedie 
Frangaise,  and  was  played  there  October  9,  1903. 
Although  it  had  already  been  performed  in  Paris  about 
two  hundred  times  at  the  Theatre  Libre  and  Theatre 
Antoine,  it  was  played  at  the  ComGdie  Frangaise  eighteen 
times  in  1903,  six  times  in  1904,  nine  times  in  1905, 
three  times  in  1906,  and  three  times  in  1907.  Blanchette 
is  the  most  successful  of  all  the  plays  by  M.  Brieux  ex- 
cepting Les  Remplagantes.  It  is  the  play  that  made  him 
famous.  He  is  still  referred  to  as  "the  author  of 
Blanchette." 

Blanchette  is  the  daughter  of  Pere  Rousset,  who 
keeps  a  wine  shop  in  a  small  country  village.  Her 
school  successes  had  flattered  the  vanity  of  her  parents, 
who,  notwithstanding  the  pecuniary  sacrifice,  insisted 
upon  her  going  on  with  her  studies  until  she  had  obtained 
a  teacher's  certificate.  And  now,  at  eighteen,  at  the  end 
of  her  course,  she  returns  home,  full  of  big  ideas  and 
with  very  different  tastes  from  those  of  her  humble 
parents.  She  is  disgusted  with  their  ignorance  and 
vulgarity,  whereas,  to  them  and  the  neighbours,  she  is 
a  miracle  of  wisdom.  The  parents  delight  in  showing 
her  off;  their  joy  is  beyond  measure. 

But  the  post  of  teacher  "promised"  by  the  Govern- 
ment is  very  long  coming,  and  Pere  Rousset  grudges 
bitterly  the  money  he  has  spent.  Blanchette,  in  putting 
into  practice  the  "science"  she  has  learnt,  makes  some 
terrific  blunders,  to  the  detriment  of  her  father's  crops. 
She  refuses  to  debase  herself  by  serving  ordinary 
customers  in  the  wine  shop.  At  last  Rousset  gets 


BLANCHETTE  TO  LA  ROBE  ROUGE       15 

exasperated;  there  is  a  scene,  which  ends  in  the  de- 
parture of  Blanchette. 

Rousset  (banging  his  fist  on  the  table).  She  will  do 
what  I  told  her  or  she  will  leave  this  house. 

Blanchette.    Well  then!     I  will  leave. 

And  then  she  comes  into  contact  with  the  harsh 
realities  of  life,  or,  at  any  rate,  with  the  harsh  realities 
of  life  as  these  are  understood  at  the  Theatre  Libre. 
This  part  of  the  play  has  been  rewritten,  the  harsh 
realities  softened,  a  sentimental,  conventional  ending 
substituted  for  the  original  one,  which  had  more  point. 
According  to  the  original  third  act,  Blanchette  becomes 
a  governess,  a  companion,  etc.,  in  various  places,  but 
always  has  to  leave  on  account  of  the  men  in  the  family. 
Unable  to  find  a  post  as  teacher,  she  tries  to  earn  her 
living  by  sewing,  but  does  not  get  paid  enough  to  keep 
herself.  Finally,  in  despair,  she  becomes  a  prostitute. 

The  moral  of  it  all  is  that  the  State  is  committing  a 
crime  in  preparing  more  teachers  than  are  necessary, 
unfitting  girls  of  humble  origin  for  life  in  their  own 
station,  and  giving  them  nothing  in  return. 

Blanchette  is  said  to  be  the  first  French  play  dealing 
with  the  problem  of  popular  education.  The  grievance 
aired  is  a  real  one.  There  is  no  doubt  that  the  point  of 
the  play  was  one  well  worth  making. 

To  what  extent  it  has  influenced  public  opinion  it 
is  impossible  to  say.  The  author  has  this  end  in  view  — 
"My  plays  are  designed  to  influence  the  public."  This 
to  him  is  the  purpose  of  playing. 

Even  granted  that  its  influence  has  been  nil,  the  play 
stands  on  its  own  merits,  especially  on  the  merits  of  the 
first  two  acts.  Seldom  has  the  life  of  humble  folk  been 


16       THE  PLAYS  OF  EUGENE  BRIEUX 

rendered  on  the  stage  so  truly.  M.  Brieux  is  at  his  best 
when  interpreting  such  people;  he  is  most  at  home 
with  them;  he  thoroughly  understands  their  life  and 
their  point  of  view.  By  a  hundred  significant  little 
details,  grouped  with  unobtrusive  skill,  he  manages  to 
convey  a  vivid  sense  of  the  reality  of  their  lives,  their 
surroundings,  their  soul  states. 

There  is  no  singularity,  no  accident  in  the  case  of 
Blanchette.  The  close  observation  and  skilful  arrange- 
ment of  details  remains  characteristic  of  the  best  work 
of  M.  Brieux.  There  is  hardly  a  play  which  does  not 
contain  some  humble  character  rendered  to  the  life, 
some  portrait  worthy  of  standing  beside  P£re  Rousset; 
le  p&re  Guernoche,  the  shepherd  healer  of  U Evasion;  le 
p&re-la-Joie  in  Rfoultat  des  Courses;  the  peasants  in 
La  Robe  Rouge  and  Les  Remplagantes  —  to  mention  only 
the  most  notable  examples.  To  appreciate  this  fully 
the  first  two  acts  should  be  read  entire. 

M.  Brieux  is  at  home  with  the  people,  sympathizes 
with  them,  and  takes  joy  in  interpreting  their  lives; 
whereas  people  in  the  least  degree  fashionable  are 
almost  foreigners  to  him.  He  is  too  sincere  to  see 
through  the  pose  that  hides  the  human  insect  struggling 
in  its  chrysalis.  The  woman  of  fashion  is  a  sealed 
book  to  him,1  he,  as  a  rule,  fails  to  make  her  live; 
sometimes  the  failure  is  more  glaring  than  at  others, 
but  he  never  really  succeeds.  Human  nature  appeals 
to  him  most  at  its  most  human,  at  its  most  natural. 

M.  DE  REBOVAL.  Comedy  in  four  acts  in  prose, 
originally  called  M.  le  S6nateur.  First  played  Septem- 
ber 15,  1892,  at  the  Od6on.  Not  a  great  success,  played 

1  Vide  U  Evasion  and  Les  Remplafantts. 


BLANCHETTE  TO  LA  ROBE  ROUGE       17 

only  twenty-two  times.  It  has  never  been  printed. 
M.  Brieux  said  of  it:  "There  are  two  acts  in  it  that  I 
would  still  stand  by;  as  to  the  rest "  (here  a  shrug). 

The  play  begins  at  the  chateau  of  M.  le  Senateur,  the 
Chateau  de  Mesnil,  some  distance  from  Paris.  Mme. 
de  Re'boval  is  very  ill  —  ill  with  grief,  for  she  knows 
that  her  husband  keeps  a  mistress,  spends  half  his 
income  on  her,  and  has  had  by  her  one  son,  Paul 
Loindet,  who  passes  for  the  natural  son  of  a  dead  friend 
of  M.  de  Re'boval.  But  it  must  not  be  imagined  that 
Re'boval  is  a  debauche;  he  is  a  great  political  figure 
and  has  a  splendid  public  reputation  for  integrity — 
a  very  upright  man.  Mme.  de  Re'boval  is  in  despair 
at  the  prospect  of  her  daughter  Beatrice  being  ruined, 
for  has  not  her  husband  just  paid  the  gambling  debts 
of  Paul  Loindet  to  the  tune  of  30,000  francs?  Beatrice 
is  a  high-minded  young  lady,  deeply  touched  by  her 
mother's  abandonment.  She  vows  she  will  never 
marry,  unless  she  meets  an  exceptional  male,  a  veritable 
hero.  M.  de  Re'boval  has  just  made  a  big  official  speech 
at  the  Senate  and  is  expected  to  spend  two  days  at  the 
chateau  with  his  wife,  a  thing  which  does  not  often 
happen.  The  way  he  greets  his  wife  is  eloquent  of 
the  man,  pompous,  official,  correct,  patronizing  —  the 
great  personage  to  the  life: — 

"Good  morning,  my  dear.  Are  you  better?  I  met 
the  doctor  ...  he  promised  me  to  bring  you  around. 
Ah,  by  the  way,  I  have  received  some  fabrics  from 
Persia  which  are  perfectly  beautiful.  I  am  going  to 
send  you  a  selection  from  them." 

The  conversation  continues,  cold  and  matter-of-fact 


1 8       THE  PLAYS  OF  EUGENE  BRIEUX 

for  his  part,  while  the  women  celebrate  the  occasion  by 
making  much  of  him. 

This  would-be  agreeable  family  party  is  suddenly 
interrupted  by  a  telegram  calling  him  back  to  Paris  — 
an  imperative  duty.  Paul  Loindet  leaves  that  very 
night  for  le  Gabon,  on  a  special  mission  obtained  from 
the  minister  by  Reboval.  It  is  his  duty  to  see  Loindet 
before  he  leaves,  and  he  cannot  neglect  his  duty. 

The  second  act  is  in  Paris.  Loindet,  as  he  packs  his 
trunks,  confides  his  regrets  for  his  past  and  his  hopes 
for  his  future  to  Mademoiselle,  his  mother,  the  mistress 
of  Removal.  Removal  is  announced;  his  entrance  is  in 
exactly  the  same  tone  as  in  the  first  act. 

"Good  morning,  my  dear." 

"How  is  Mme.  de  Removal?" 

"Thank  you,  not  very  well,  but  I  have  seen  the 
doctor  and  he  has  promised  to  bring  her  around.  Ah, 
by  the  way,  I  have  been  thinking  of  you;  I  have 
received  some  fabrics  from  Persia  which  are  perfectly 
beautiful.  I  am  going  to  send  you  a  selection  from 
them." 

Loindet  says  good-bye  to  his  protector,  the  severe 
but  generous  friend  of  his  father,  promising  to  perform 
his  duty  like  a  man  of  honour  in  the  new  world  to  which 
he  goes  to  make  a  fresh  start,  and  M.  de  Removal  wipes 
the  silent  tear,  filled  with  the  consciousness  of  having 
performed  his  duty.  Loindet  departs  and  Reboval  is 
just  making  himself  comfortable  in  this  his  other  home 
when  a  telegram  comes  from  the  chateau  announcing 
that  Mme.  de  Removal's  condition  is  serious.  M.  le 
Se*nateur  excuses  himself  to  his  mistress  in  the  same 
terms  as  to  his  wife  —  an  imperative  duty,  etc. 


19 

Two  years  intervene.  Mme.  de  Reboval  is  dead. 
M.  de  Removal  has  married  his  mistress.  Loindet 
has  returned  from  Africa  covered  with  glory  —  a 
veritable  hero  after  the  heart  of  Beatrice.  He  loves 
her,  Beatrice  adores  him,  but  M.  de  Reboval  forbids 
the  marriage.  Why?  Why?  and  Why?  He  is  forced 
to  explain  that  it  is  impossible,  monstrous,  that  they 
are  brother  and  sister.  This  scene  is  a  very  strong 
one,  very  well  constructed,  the  best  in  the  play  according 
to  some. 

The  last  act  falls  flat.  Loindet  questions  his 
mother:  — 

"  I  must  know  whether  M.  de  Reboval  lied  in  saying 
he  was  my  father.  If  he  did,  I  can  marry  Beatrice." 

"He  told  the  truth." 

The  children  turn  on  their  parents  for  hiding  the 
truth,  for  ruining  their  lives,  railing  at  the  hypocrisy  and 
evil  behind  a  correct  exterior.  M.  de  Reboval  pleads 
extenuating  circumstances  (and  there  are  extenuating 
circumstances,  but  it  is  not  worth  while  going  into 
these),  asks  pardon  of  his  daughter,  who  throws  herself 
into  his  arms  before  fleeing  to  a  convent. 

The  first  two  acts,  couched  in  the  form  of  true 
comedy,  are  universally  admired;  then  the  tone  of  the 
play  changes,  becomes  overstrained,  melodramatic, 
and  ends  in  flaming  rhetoric. 

^This  play  has  already  been  referred  to  as  having  "a 
bearing  on  the  more  intimate  institution  of  the  family, 
already  showing  our  author's  preoccupation  with  the 
position  of  the  children,  pointing  out  how  this  is  affected 
by  a  liaison."1  _  This  is  only  a  part  of  the  truth.  The 

»Cf.p.i3. 


2Oi      THE  PLAYS  OF  EUGENE  BRIEUX 

play  is  in  effect  an  attack  on  the  bourgeois;  it  shows  the 
hollowness  of  what  the  bourgeois  admires  and  looks  up 
to.  From  one  point  of  view  (what,  if  we  screw  our 
imagination  to  the  sticking-place,  we  might  call  the 
plebeian  point  of  view)  existing  social  institutions  are 
based  upon  a  platform,  a  bourgeois  platform,  made  up 
to  a  large  extent  of  compromise,  for  the  sake  of  material 
comfort.  Removal  is  a  type  of  the  successful  bourgeois, 
a  great  man,  a  great  public  man,  and  M.  Brieux  says, 
smiling  at  first  —  No,  he  is  ridiculous,  in  an  absurd 
position;  then  sharply  —  No,  he  is  a  dishonest,  cruel 
man;  then,  at  the  top  of  his  voice  at  last  —  No,  he  is 
a  miserable  wretch  who  ought  to  beg  for  pardon.  The 
attack  on  the  bourgeois  is  implicit  rather  than  direct, 
but  it  must  be  remembered  that  the  author  of  M.  de 
Reboval  is  a  Thedlre  Libre  man.1  M.  Brieux  is  not  a 
socialist  partisan,  he  appeals  here  for  no  progressive 
measure,  rather  he  goes  back  to  the  nearest  common 
point  of  departure,  to  a  moral  cleanliness  and  simplicity 
that  has  gone  out  of  fashion,  to  a  mode  of  life  that 
fundamentally  accords  with  the  dictates  of  Christian 
morality. 

LA  COUVEE.  Comedy  in  three  acts.  First  played  in 
a  private  club  in  Rouen  in  1893;  first  public  perform- 
ance in  Paris  at  the  Co-operation  des  Idees,  Universite 
populaire  du  Faubourg  Saint  Antoine,  July  9,  1903. 

This  comedy  is  interesting  as  a  study  of  life  in  a 
provincial  town,  such  as  Rouen.  It  is  a  satire  on  the 
fussy  interference  of  parents  in  the  lives  of  their  children, 


1  What  this  implies  may  be  gathered  from  the  description  of 
the  Thedtre  Libre  by  M.  Jules  Lemaltre,  quoted  p.  101. 


BLANCHETTE  TO  LA  ROBE  ROUGE   21 

of  the  hen  who  cannot  allow  "the  brood"  to  stray 
from  under  her  wing. 

In  the  last  act  the  respective  mothers-in-law  clash. 
After  this  explosion  everything  is  made  up;  it  is  ad- 
mitted that  the  chickens  are  big  enough  to  be  allowed 
to  live:  — 

"The  brood  has  grown  up;  the  little  ones  are  flying 
away." 

It  is  agreeable  and  amusing  enough.  The  clash  of 
the  mothers-in-law  is  repeated  word  for  "word  in 
UEcole  des  Belles-Meres.1 

So  far,  in  spite  of  the  success  of  Blanchette,  none  of  the 
plays  by  M.  Brieux  are  completely  satisfying,  whether 
it  is  that  he  is  working  to  a  pattern  (the  Theatre  Libre 
pattern  to  some  extent)  which  does  not  suit  his  talent, 
or  whether  he  is  not  yet  completely  master  of  his  means 
and  method.  The  next  play,  UEngrenage,  is  more 
satisfying. 

L'ENGRANAGE3.  Comedy  in  three  acts.  Played 
for  the  first  time  by  the  Cercle  des  Escholiers 
(at  the  Theatre  de  la  Comedie  Parisienne),  May  1 6, 
1894.  It  was  so  highly  approved  of  by  good  judges, 
so  many  expressed  a  wish  to  see  it  on  the  public  stage, 
that  it  was  revived  a  few  weeks  later  at  the  Theatre 
des  Nouveaute's,  June  4,2  1894,  and  was  there  performed 
twenty-one  times. 

Re"moussin,  a  manufacturer  in  a  small  country  town, 
a  self-made  man,  honest  and  anxious  to  do  good,  is 
persuaded,  in  spite  of  himself,  to  go  into  politics.  After 
a  good  deal  of  pressure  on  the  part  of  his  wife,  his 

1Cf.  p.  44.     •  The  Machine's  Clutch. 

8  An  error  in  the  printed  edition  gives  June  I. 


22       THE  PLAYS  OF  EUGENE  BRIEUX 

daughter,  and  his  son-in-law,  and  of  Morin,  a  "  S£nateur 
Scapin,"  he  consents  to  stand  for  election,  but  on 
condition  that  the  campaign  is  to  be  free  from  any  of  the 
usual  corrupt  practices,  that  his  ideas  must  be  respected, 
and  that  no  compromise  or  concession  is  to  be  made 
for  the  sake  of  his  election.  The  inevitable  happens. 
He  is  forced  to  make  one  compromise  after  another,  he 
is  caught  in  the  political  machine.  He  undertakes  to 
do  the  very  opposite  of  what  he  feels  to  be  right,  and 
his  friends  go  further  still  in  what  they  promise  for 
him. 

He  is  elected.  He  leaves  his  works  and  his  home, 
goes  to  Paris,  and  quickly  degenerates  from  bad  to 
worse.  His  position,  his  growing  influence,  go  to  his 
head,  and  the  changes  in  the  new  environment  are  so 
gradual,  they  come  about  by  such  easy  transitions, 
that  he  has  not  the  slightest  idea  that  he  is  being 
demoralized.  He  is  merely  changing  his  opinion  as 
a  wise  man  should;  one  cannot  always  be  right,  es- 
pecially in  a  provincial  town  where  no  one  ever  gets 
things  at  first  hand.  Thus,  without  his  knowledge, 
he  gets  more  and  more  caught  in  the  engrenage. 

During  his  absence  the  works  do  not  do  so  well; 
his  expenditure,  naturally  enough,  has  increased 
rapidly;  the  well-to-do,  honest  man  finds  himself 
in  financial  difficulties  before  he  knows  it.  As  luck 
will  have  it  there  is  a  big  deal  going  on.  The  pro- 
moters of  the  Simplon  tunnel  are  getting  the  Govern- 
ment to  buy  them  out  for  a  mere  trifle  of  a  hundred 
million  francs,  and  they  must  know  who  are  their 
friends  when  it  comes  to  the  vote.  The  Marquis  de 
Storn  calls  on  Rdmoussin  and  explains  the  situation, 


BLANCHETTE  TO  LA  ROBE  ROUGE      23 

shows  him  the  balance  sheet  to  be  approved,  and,  in 
departing,  casually  leaves  a  cheque  for  25,000  francs 
on  the  table.  Re"moussin  perceives  it  and  calls  him 
back. 

"Take  this  back!     I  am  not  for  sale." 

Mme.  Remoussin  happens  to  come  in  just  in  time  to 
help  out  the  explanatory  Marquis  de  Storn. 

Storn.  Come  to  my  rescue,  Madame.  M.  Re"- 
moussin  refuses  to  let  me  have  a  little  share  in  your 
charities. 

[And  of  course  it  is  not  corruption;  in  fact,'it  is'the 
usual  thing.] 

Storn.  What  could  be  more  proper?  It  is  quite 
customary.  Your  colleagues  have  accepted. 

Remoussin.    Very  well,  if  it  is  customary. 

It  is  not  to  buy  his  vote,  since  he  has  always  oeen 
favorable  to  the  deal.  He  accepts  the  money  on 
behalf  of  needy  charities  in  his  arrondissement.  Nor 
does  he  realize  that  he  has  been  caught  and  crushed 
by  the  machine  until  Morin  slaps  him  on  the  back  as 
he  says  — 

"I  have  just  met  Storn;  he  tells  me  you  are  in  favor 
of  buying  up  the  Simplon  interests.  So,  my  friend, 
you  too  are  in  the  procession!" 

Punishment  comes  quickly;  the  scandal  is  out,  lists 
of  the  "chequards"  are  published.  Remoussin,  in  his 
anger,  accuses  Morin  of  drawing  him  into  the  sphere 
of  corruption. 

"  But  for  you,  I  should  have  remained  what  I  was  — 
an  honest  man." 

Morin.  An  honest  man!  Oh,  no!  merely  a  greater 
hypocrite  than  we,  that's  all.  Was  it  I  who  sent  you 


24       THE  PLAYS  OF  EUGENE  BRIEUX 

to  the  minister  to  ask  for  favors?  Was  it  I  who  made 
your  speech  on  the  corn  laws?  Was  it  I  who  took  your 
money? 

Re'moussin  is  obliged  to  acknowledge  the  truth  of 
this,  recognizes  his  responsibility,  curses  the  day  he 
entered  politics,  and  bursts  into  tears  at  the  thought 
of  what  he  has  been  brought  to,  so  that  even  Morin 
is  touched  and  comforts  him  as  well  as  he  can.  Re- 
moussin  begs  his  family  to  forgive  him;  he  feels  guilty 
towards  them: 

"There  is  only  one  way  for  a  man  to  get  back  his 
self-respect  and  the  respect  of  the  public.  I  am  going 
to  take  it,'*  and  he  goes  out  without  any  explanation. 
As  soon  as  he  has  left  a  telegram  arrives  to  say  that 
the  whole  affair  is  to  be  hushed  up  by  the  Government, 
the  "chequards"  are  not  to  be  sued.  Every  one  is 
overjoyed.  Amid  the  universal  rejoicings  Re'moussin 
returns.  He  has  made  good,  he  has  done  his  duty,  he 
has  written  to  Le  Reveil  to  acknowledge  his  dishonesty, 
he  has  sent  in  his  resignation  to  the  President  of  the 
Chamber,  he  has  returned  the  25,000  francs  to  the 
Attorney-General.  He  owes  no  one  a  farthing,  he  can 
hold  up  his  head  once  more,  he  is  an  honest  man 
again. 

Morin  makes  his  escape  before  he  can  be  contami- 
nated. Re'moussin  is  covered  with  reproaches  from 
the  family;  the  crowd  without  gather  beneath  his 
windows  to  shout,  "Robber!  robber!  why  don't  you 
resign?" 

Re'moussin  tries  to  make  a  speech,  to  explain  to 
them,  but  they  shout  him  down  and  throw  stones  at 
him.  In  the  distance  is  heard  the  voice  of  Morin: 


BLANCHETTE  TO  LA  ROBE  ROUGE     25 

"What  I  desire  is  the  welfare  of  the  nation,  the 
welfare  of  this  proud  and  intelligent  nation." 

"Hurrah  for  Morin!     Hurrah  for  Morinl" 

The  play  ends  ironically.  It  is  an  effective  satire 
on  politics  as  they  are  carried  on  under  the  present 
system  of  universal  suffrage.  M.  Brieux  has  held 
aloof  from  politics,  but  he  is  not  cynically  indifferent. 
His  general  attitude  is  clearly  shown  in  the  Discours 
de  Reception  at  the  Academy  sixteen  years  after  the 
production  of  this  play. 

"The  first  part  of  Criquette  also  shows  the  sympathy 
which  he  (Halevy)  felt  for  the  people  of  Paris,  so  little 
understood,  so  slandered,  whose  greatest  fault  and  the 
least  understood,  is  that  vanity  which  has  been  incul- 
cated and  fostered  by  the  blandishments  of  politicians. 
So  many  unfulfilled  promises,  so  many  fine  dreams 
followed  by  unsatisfied  awakenings,  so  much  expendi- 
ture of  effort,  apparently  without  result,  have  given 
rise  to  the  belief  among  our  townspeoples  that  uni- 
versal suffrage  has  proved  a  failure,  or  at  least  that, 
like  all  political  revolutions,  it  has  been  beneficial 
chiefly  to  the  substantial  urban  classes.  It  is  by  the 
formation  of  groups,  from  which  politics  is  excluded, 
by  the  power  of  syndicalism,  strong  from  its  beginning, 
portentous  and  disquieting  as  to  its  future,  that  the 
people,  disillusioned  and  determined  to  depend  upon 
themselves  alone,  and  with  no  aid  from  the  upper 
classes,  propose  hereafter  to  succeed  in  the  conquest  of 
their  share  of  the  earth's  fullness.  Let  us  hope  that 
they  may  not  see  leaders  rise  from  their  own  ranks  who 
will  become  their  masters,  and  let  us  hope  that  they 


26      THE  PLAYS  OF  EUGENE  BRIEUX 

may  not  one  day  discover  that  they  have  set  up  tyranny 
in  another  quarter  while  seeking  for  freedom." 

The  ironical  ending  of  UEngrenage  is  very  different 
from  anything  the  three  preceding  plays  can  show,  and 
it  can  hardly  be  disputed  that  this  style  suits  M.  Brieux 
much  better.  Not  that  he  has  shaken  off  the  Theatre 
Libre  influence  for  all  time;  it  clings  to  him  almost 
throughout  his  career,  and  every  now  and  then  comes 
into  evidence;  but  in  this  play  he  has  laid  it  aside 
and  is  very  much  his  own  man.  He  has  done  what 
he  wanted  to  do  and  has  thoroughly  enjoyed  doing  it. 

"Je  manifeste  pour  influencer  le  public'*  is  the  truth, 
but  it  is  not  the  whole  truth.  It  is  also  true  that  M. 
Brieux  takes  the  satirist's  joy  in  catching  and  rendering 
human  folly.  It  would  be  hard  to  draw  up  the  mani- 
festo of  this  play,  harder  to  trace  its  influence  on  the 
public.  He  wrote  this  play  because  he  is  a  playwright, 
rather  than  because  he  is  a  missionary.  He  has  the 
"don"  (pace  Zola): 

"I  am  aware  how  far  UEngrenage  of  M.  Brieux  falls 
short  of  being  a  great  comedy  of  politics,  but  it  is  a 
wholesome  and  strong  work  which,  following  Blanchette, 
and  M.  de  R6boval,  confirms  us  in  the  estimate  we  had 
made  of  its  author.  He  was  born  to  the  theatre,  he 
is  one  of  our  chief  hopes."1 

Sarcey's  opinion  in  such  matters  is  as  good  as 
another's.  UEngrenage  is  not  a  perfect  play.  Sarcey 
hints  at  superficiality  of  observation  and  "missing 
•scenes"  that  have  been  left  out.  It  is  a  pity  that 
Sarcey  was  not  more  explicit.  Apparently  it  is  not  a 
masterpiece,  but  it  is  good  enough;  it  is  one  of  the 
'  Francisque  Sarcey.  Le  Temps,  Lundi,  4  Juin,  1894. 


BLANCHETTE  TO  LA  ROBE  ROUGE     27 

characteristic  plays  of  M.  Brieux,  more  essentially  a 
part  of  the  man's  work  than  anything  that  has  preceded 
it  and  than  much  that  is  to  follow  it. 

LA  ROSE  BLEUE  is  not  one  of  the  characteristic  plays; 
it  is  a  trifle,  specially  written  to  show  off  an  infant 
prodigy.  The  subject  is  the  "reconciliation"  of  an 
elderly  couple  who  belong  to  the  grand-monde,  the  infant 
prodigy  playing  gooseberry.  It  might  have  been 
written  by  anybody;  it  might  be  performed  at  any 
Academy  for  young  ladies.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  it  was 
performed  at  Geneva  at  the  Grand  Thedtre,  July  20, 
1895,  as  a  comedy-vaudeville  in  one  act. 

LES  BIENFAITEURS.  Comedy  in  four  acts.  Played 
for  the  first  time  in  Paris  at  the  tThedtre  de  la  Porte 
St.  Martin,  October  22,  1896,  and  was  played  only 
twelve  times. 

It  is  a  satire  on  organized  charity  as  it  is  carried  on 
by  people  (chiefly  women)  who  have  nothing  else  to  do. 
Such  a  subject  could  hardly  be  to  the  taste  of  a  Porte 
St.  Martin  audience.  It  was  not  a  success;  M.  Brieux 
has  made  his  point  in  a  way  —  he  has  raised  a  question 
rather  than  solved  a  problem. 

In  collaboration  with  Henri,  fianc6  of  his  little  cousin 
Georgette,  Landrecy  has  invented  an  electric  accumu- 
lator. Being  a  generous  optimist,  not  to  say  Utopian, 
he  would  like  to  start  a  factory  on  a  co-operative  basis. 
Wages  of  the  workmen  are  to  be  increased,  and  he 
dreams  of  founding  all  kinds  of  institutions  —  homes, 
schools,  etc.  —  if  only  he  had  the  money!  His  wife 
Pauline  is  more  charitably  inclined  than  her  husband, 
if  that  were  possible  —  and,  if  only  she  had  the  money 


28 


Hereupon  Valentin  Salviat,  her  long-lost  brother, 
turns  up  from  Africa  in  the  nick  of  time,  as  rich  as 
Croesus.  He  is  only  too  ready  to  empty  his  overloaded 
purse  at  their  feet  so  soon  as  he  discovers  their  dreams. 
Secretly,  he  promises  himself  some  fun  over  their  dis- 
illusioning, and  he  loves  "la  petite  Georgette"  and  hopes 
thus  to  please  her.  (The  sentimental  theme  is  quite 
unimportant,  no  further  reference  will  be  made  to  it.) 

And  now  we  come  to  the  real  meat  of  the  play  —  the 
under-side  of  Society  charitable  organizations,  into 
which  the  beautiful  dreams  of  the  Landr6cys  soon 
degenerate.  The  conventional  charity,  made  up  of 
committees,  patronesses,  routine  and  condescension 
to  the  poor,  automatically  substitutes  itself  for  their 
generous  imaginings.  The  machine  of  charity  takes 
hold  of  the  Landr£cys  (just  as  the  machine  of  politics 
took  hold  of  Re'moussin),  grinds  all  the  humanity  out 
of  their  aims,  until  nothing  is  left  but  a  cold,  cruel 
system.  It  is  impossible  to  tell  the  story  of  this;  there 
is  no  action  in  the  ordinary  sense  of  the  word;  scene 
after  scene  of  telling  satirical  power  —  slices  of  life  — 
picture  the  wily  hypocrisy  of  the  professional  pauper, 
the  inanity  of  committees,  the  vain  folly  of  patronesses, 
the  tragedy  of  help  withheld  because  regulations  and 
conditions  had  not  been  fulfilled,  and  (even  worse) 
indifference  to  human  suffering.  Here  are  two  selec- 
tions, let  them  speak  for  themselves:  — 

Act  77,  Scene  16.  The  Committee  meets.  After 
some  difficulty  the  usual  feminine  conversation  is 
dominated  sufficiently  for  business  to  proceed. 

Mme.  Le  Catelier  (standing).  Mesdames,  Messieurs: 
Thanks  to  the  initiative  of  Mme.  Landr6cy,  we  have 


BLANCHETTE  TO  LA  ROBE  ROUGE      29 

succeeded  in  bringing  together  in  a  kind  of  friendly 
union  all  the  presidents  of  the  various  charitable 
interests  in  our  city.  In  contrast  to  what  happens 
too  often  elsewhere,  we  have  been  able  to  unite  these 
societies  regardless  of  political  or  religious  distinctions. 
We  have  merged  a  part  of  our  different  funds,  and  all 
of  our  good  will.  The  results,  while  not  being  all  that 
could  be  desired,  are  promising.  Our  secretary  will 
read  to  you  the  report  of  our  activities  for  our  first 
year.  Before  yielding  the  floor  to  her,  please  allow 
me  to  thank  all  you  ladies  and  gentlemen  for  your 
zeal  and  devotion  to  the  cause.  (Soft  applauding  of 
gloved  hands.)  The  secretary  now  has  the  floor. 

Mme.  Destournel.  Mesdames  et  Messieurs:  In  these 
times  of  scepticism  and  doubt,  one  man  has  been 
found  — 

(No  one  is  listening;  personal  conversations  are  re- 
sumed, drowning  the  voice  of  Mme.  Destournel  during 
all  that  follows  of  an  interminable  report,  bristling  with 
figures.  Realizing  that  no  one  is  paying  the  least  atten- 
tion to  her,  Mme.  Destournel  gradually  lowers  her  voice 
and  finally  reads  audibly  to  herself,  in  fulfilling  her  duty. 
All  are  talking  at  once,  fashions,  theatres,  etc. ; 

(It  amounts'  to  an  uproar.  Georgette,  with' a  troubled 
look,  comes  in.  She  goes  to  Pauline  and  speaks  low  in  her 
ear.  Pauline  in  turn  is  disturbed  and  leads  her  to  the 
front  of  the  scene.) 

Pauline  (low  to  Georgette).  Oh!  The  poor  creatures! 
And  has  nobody  gone  to  help  them? 

Georgette.    No  one. 

Pauline.  Come!  (She  goes  out  at  the  right  and  re- 
turns immediately  with  coat  and  hat.  They  notice  her. 


3O       THE  PLAYS  OF  EUGENE  BRIEUX 

"What  is  the  matter?"  "/  don't  know"  Pauline  goes 
to  Mme.  Le  Catelier ,  speaks  a  few  words  in  a  low  tone  to 
hert  and  leaves  with  Georgette,  who  had  waited  near  the 
door.  There  is  a  silence.) 

Mme.  Le  Catelier.  Mesdames,  Mme.  Landre*cy  is 
called  away  on  a  matter  of  the  greatest  importance. 

Several  voices  (timidly).     May  we  know? 

Mme.  Le  Catelier.  I  know  that  this  matter  is  con- 
nected with  our  work,  and  nothing  more.  Mme. 
Landre*cy  begs  you  to  wait  for  her.  The  secretary 
will  continue  the  reading  of  her  report. 

Mme.  Destournel.     I  have  finished,  Madame. 

(There  is  a  little  conference  between  Mme.  Le  Catelier 
and  Mme.  Destournel^  during  which  the  various  groups 
become  animated  again.) 

Mme.  Le  Catelier  (ringing  a  little  belt).  The  question 
comes  on  the  acceptance  of  the  report.  (The  hands 
go  up)  Contrary?  The  report  is  accepted.  (Ringing 
again.)  Has  any  one  any  communication  to  lay  before 
the  meeting? 

Mme.  Paillencourt.  Oh,  yes!  I  almost  forgot. 
(She  searches  for  a  letter  in  her  reticule)  I  would  like 
to  speak. 

Mme.  Le  Catelier.     Mme.'  Paillencourt  has  the  floor. 

Mme.  Paillencourt  (searching  for  her  letter,  reads 
from  another).  "The  smallest  sum  will  be  gratefully 
received."  That  is  not  it  —  One  receives  so  many 
letters  — Ah!  here  it  is!  It  is  a  request  for  aid  which 
was  sent  to  us  several  days  ago.  It  is  worded  in  the 
usual  way,  with  a  threat  of  suicide.  I  think  —  (She 
looks  it  over)  Yes:  "If  God  forsakes  us,  we  shall  seek 


BLANCHETTE  TO  LA  ROBE  ROUGE      31 

refuge  in  death."  Signed,  "Naclette,  rue  auz  Juifs." 
That  is  it! 

Mme.  Le  Catelier.  We  will  have  it  investigated. 
(She  hands  the  letter  over  to  Mme.  Destournel.) 

Mme.  Destournel.  It  is  only  a  few  steps.  I  will  go 
today,  or  tomorrow. 

But  the  threat  of  suicide  was  no  vain  one,  and  this 
was  why  Pauline  was  called  out:  and  as  she  comes  back 
with  her  "Mesdames!  Mesdames!  A  dreadful  thing 
has  happened,  a  perfectly  dreadful  thing  —  "  the 
bourgeois  platform  cracks  and  reveals  the  yawning 
abyss  beneath. 

In  order  to  suggest  the  range  of  the  play  the  other 
selection  shall  be  of  a  totally  different  nature  —  the 
episode  of  Fe"chain  le  re'gene're",  Act  II,  Scene  8,  and 
A.ct  III,  Scene  2. 

Act  II,  Scene  8.  (Enter  Fechain,  poor,  but  very 
neatly  dressed.) 

Mme.  Guerlot  (low  to  Pauline").  Just  see  how  neat 
Fe*chain  manages  to  look,  with  the  little  aid  that  we 
allow  him. 

Pauline  (low}.  Isn't  it  wonderful?  It's  a  fortunate 
thing  for  a  charity  to  have  a  poor  man  who  makes  such 
a  good  appearance.  (Aloud}  Come  here,  Fechain. 

Fechain.     Mesdames!     (A  dignified  bow  to  each.) 

Pauline.  My  good  man,  your  benefactor,  M. 
Valentin  Salviat,  has  expressed  the  wish  to  see  you. 
So  I  sent  to  tell  you. 

Ftchain.  I  am  at  your  service,  and  at  his,  Mme. 
la  Pr6sidente.  I  shall  have  only  one  regret,  that  I 
shall  not  be  able  to  tell  him  properly  how  very  grateful 
I  am. 


32       THE  PLAYS  OF  EUGENE  BRIEUX 

Mme.  Guerlot  (low  to  Pauline).  And  he  expresses 
himself  so  correctly! 

Pauline  (in  the  same  tone).  He  is  remarkable. 
(Aloud)  M.  Valentin  Salviat  will  perhaps  question 
you  about  your  past  life.  I  must  ask  you  to  excuse 
him.  You  will  not  mind  that? 

F&chain.     No,  madame. 

Pauline.     What  are  you  going  to  say  to  him? 

Ffahain.  I  have  already  thought  about  that,  Mme. 
la  Pre*sidente.  I  shall  tell  him  about  all  my  faults, 
and  how  I 

Pauline.  Yes  —  but  won't  you  —  won't  you  — 
speak  now  —  as  if  I  were  M.  Valentin  Salviat? 

FSchain.  Certainly,  Madame  la  Presidente.  (A 
pause.)  As  the  father  of  five  children,  I  had  the 
misfortune  to  allow  myself  to  be  tempted  by  the  prop- 
erty of  others.  I  had  a  moment  of  forgetfulness  and 
was  condemned  by  the  laws  of  my  country  for  em- 
bezzlement and  burglary.  (Glances  of  admiration 
between  Mme.  Guerlot  and  Pauline.)  After  having 
undergone  the  just  punishment  for  my  crime,  I  should 
have  again  fallen  fatally  into  sin,  if  God  —  (correcting 
himself)  if  my  good  star  — 

Mme.  Guerlot.  You  may  say  "God."  (Low  to 
Pauline)  What  do  you  think?  Do  you  see  any 
objection? 

Pauline.     Not  at  all. 

Ffrhain.  If  God  Jiad  not  led  me  to  two  lovely 
ladies  — 

Pauline  (gently).    Oh!    oh! 

Ffahain.    Mustn't  I  say  that? 

Mme.  Guerlot.    Why,  certainly,  certainly. 


BLANCHETTE  TO  LA  ROBE  ROUGE      33 

Fechain.  Two  lovely  ladies  who  led  me  back  to  the 
straight  path.  Since  then  I  have  returned  to  my 
family  and  I  should  be  living  in  modest,  but  complete 
happiness,  if  the  health  of  my  poor  wife  were  all  that 
it  might  be. 

Pauline.     It  is  perfect  —  Is  your  wife  still  sick? 

Mme.  Guerlot.     You  didn't  speak  of  that. 

Fechain.  That  was  because  I  was  ashamed  to  have 
recourse  so  often  to  your  inexhaustible  bounty.  Ah, 
if  only  my  palpitation  did  not  forbid  me  to  do  any 
work!  (He  wipes  away  a  tear.  Pauline,  turning  about, 
takes  a  coin  from  her  purse.) 

Pauline  (low,  to  Mme.  Guerlot).    Ten  francs? 

Mme.  Guerlot.    Yes. 

Pauline.    Take  this,  my  good  man. 

Fechain.     No,  Mme.  la  Presidente!  no,  really! 

Pauline.     Oh,  come  now,  you  must! 

Fechain  (accepting).     It's  too  much!     It's  too  much! 

Act  III.  Scene  2.  Pauline.  Come  in!  (Fechain 
enters,)  Ah,  it  is  you.  (To  the  servant)  TellM.  Salviat 
that  I  will  see  him  now.  (The  servant  goes  out.) 

Pauline.     He  will  be  here  presently.     You  may  wait. 

Fechain.  Will  you  kindly  allow  me  to  sit  down? 
Because,  I  don't  know  whether  it  is  my  palpitation, 
but  everything  seems  to  be  going  around  —  you  seem 
to  be  rising  up  to  the  ceiling  and  coming  down.  It 
makes  me  feel  dizzy. 

Pauline  (astonished).  Be  seated.  (Aside)  If  I 
didn't  know  him  as  I  do  I  could  take  an  oath  that  he 
is  drunk. 

Fechain  (sitting  down  very  near  the  table).  Listen  to 
me,  Mme.  la  Presidente. 


34       THE  PLAYS  OF  EUGENE  BRIEUX 

Pauline.     Why,  you  smell  of  alcohol! 

Ffahain.  That  must  be  because  I  rubbed  myself 
with  it  before  coming.  I  was  in  terrible  pain,  and  if 
it  hadn't  been  for  you,  understand,  I  wouldn't  have 
left  the  house.  Only  I  heard  you  say  to  the  other 
lady  that  you  had  only  one  reformed  man  to  show  to 
my  benefactor,  so  I  didn't  want  to  leave  you  in  the 
lurch. 

Pauline.    You  are  drunk,  my  good  man.     Go  away. 

Ffahain  (gets  up).  Me? —  I  haven't  taken  a  drop 
of  anything. 

Pauline.  You  can  scarcely  stand  on  your  feet; 
you  are  reeking  with  alcohol.  I  tell  you  to  go  away. 

F&chain.  That  seem  so?  Honest,  madame  —  must 
be  the  open  air  b'cause  when  I  left  the  —  the  —  whose- 
its  —  I  was  as  straight  as  a  string. 

Pauline.    Go  away! 

Ffahain.  No.  I  don'  want  to  dis'point  you  —  get 
over  this  —  I  know  m'self  —  get  over  this.  You'll 
see  m*  ben'factor  won't  notice  a  thing.  As  th'  father 
o'  five  children  I  had  th'  misfortune  t'  be  tempted  by 
the  property  of  others 

Pauline.  If  you  don't  leave  here  of  your  own  accord, 
I  shall  call  Jean  to  put  you  out. 

Fechain.  Don't  you  worry.  You'll  see  —  I  just 
don'  want  to  dis'point  you  —  [Enter  Salviat]. 

Ffahain  (to  himself).  There  he  is  —  my  benefactor. 
M'sieu,  I'm  th'  r' formed  man. 

Salviat  (laughing,  to  Pauline).  Oh,  oh!  Why, 
why  —  the  reformed  man  —  is  drunk. 

Pauline.  Oh,  dear!  He  was  so  nice  yesterday 
morning. 


BLANCHETTE  TO  LA  ROBE  ROUGE   35 

Ftchain.  As  th'  father  o*  five  children  —  had  th' 
misfortune  t'low  m'self  t*  b'  tempted  by  th'  prop'ty 
offuthers  — 

Salviat.     You  are  drunk,  my  man. 

Fechain.  — By  th'  prop'ty  offuthers  —  had  moment 
of  forgetfulness,  and  was  condemned  by  th'  laws  of 
m'  country  — 

Salviat.     Shut  up,  or  I'll  throw  you  out  of  the  window. 

Fechain.     Yes,  my  benefactor. 

Pauline  (to  Salviat).     I  am  really  ashamed. 

Salviat.  Pooh!  You're  not  going  to  worry  about 
that  —  a  drunken  man  —  I've  seen  plenty  of  them. 
This  one  may  be  interesting;  we  will  draw  him  out. 

Fechain.  As  th'  father  o'  five  children  —  I  had  th' 
misforchun  — 

Salviat.  You  are  going  to  have  the  misfortune  of 
receiving  a  beating  if  you  don't  behave  yourself. 
You  are  to  speak  when  you  are  asked  a  question. 

Fechain.    Yes,  my  benefactor. 

Salviat.     Stand  up! 

Fechain.     Can't  stand  up,  my  benefactor. 

Salviat  (laughing).  And  don't  call  me  your  benefactor 
again.  If  I  ever  was,  I  am  so  no  longer  —  why  don't 
you  goto  work? 

Fechain.    On  'count  of  my  palpitation. 

Salviat.  Oh,  ho!  (He  gives  him  a  vigorous  slap  on 
the  shoulder.)  Palpitation  of  the  heart!  Come  now, 
don't  jest  with  me. 

Fechain.     I  have  a  doctor's  certificate. 

Salviat  (sitting  down).  Goon.  You're  doing  wrong. 
What  you  are  doing  now  is  a  swindle.  If  you  don't 


36       THE  PLAYS  OF  EUGENE  BRIEUX 

tell  me  the  whole  truth  —  you  know  what  a  prison  is 
like,  don't  you? 

Ftchain.    No,  M'sieu. 

Salviat.  What!  No,  m'sieu!  So  you  were  not 
condemned  by  the  laws  of  your  country  —  as  you  said 
you  were? 

Ftchain  (looking  towards  Pauline).     Yes? 

Salviat.  You  did  not  serve  time?  (He  does  not 
answer.)  If  you  don't  answer  I  am  going  to  have  you 
grabbed  when  you  leave  here. 

Ftchain  (looking  at  Pauline).     It  was  — 

Salviat.  Come  now,  have  you  lost  your  tongue? 
It  embarrasses  you  to  tell  it  all  before  Madame  because 
you  have  been  lying  to  her? 

Ffahain.    Yes,  M'sieu. 

Salviat.     You  did  tell  her  that  you  had  stolen  ? 

Fechain.     I  never  stole. 

Pauline.  You  never  stole!  Why,  I  have  your  court 
record. 

Ftchain  (weeping) .     'S  not  mine. 

Salviat.  That's  a  good  one!  Now  tell  us  all  about 
that. 

Fechain.  All  right;  't  was  this  way.  M'  name  isn't 
Fechain.  That  was  the  name  of  my  wife's  first  hus- 
band —  she  was  a  widow.  When  we  came  here,  honest, 
I  wanted  to  go  to  work.  But  what  could  you  expect; 
work  —  I  —  I  can't  stand  it.  It  goes  all  right  for 
two  or  three  days  —  and  then,  good-night!  So,  when 
we  found  out  there  was  a  society  for  the  reformed  — 
when  we  found  out  what  it  was  like,  my  wife  gave  me 
her  other  man's  papers  —  and  there  you  are! 

The  co-operative  factory  of  Landr£cy  fares  no  better 


BLANCHETTE  TO  LA  ROBE  ROUGE      37 

than  the  charity  organizations  of  his  wife.  In  spite  of 
all  Landrecy  has  done  for  the  men  they  threaten  to 
strike  unless  he  takes  back  a  workman  dismissed  for 
insubordination.  When  everything  has  gone  suf- 
ficiently wrong,  Salviat  turns  up,  preaches  a  sermon 
on  the  folly  of  it  all,  and  retires  from  the  position  of 
suitor  to  Georgette  in  order  that  she  may  marry  the 
young  man  she  loves.  The  ending  is  very  tame. 

Nothing  is  easier  to  say  than  that  M.  Brieux  has 
solved  no  problem;1  it  is  open  to  question  whether  he 
thought  of  trying  to  solve  one.  The  problem  here  is  the 
greatest  of  all  social  problems,  the  problem  of  poverty. 
Is  it  not  another  attack  on  the  social  hypocrisy  of  the 
Bourgeois,  with  his  liberal  ideals  in  one  hand  and  his 
complacency  in  the  other,  while  the  social  problem 
remains  untouched?  The  essence  of  his  preaching  is 
that  we  must  understand  each  other,  poor  and  rich, 
that  we  must  realize  the  position  of  affairs  in  order  to 
cope  with  them.  If  only  we  would  try  to  realize  the 
position  and  try  to  understand  each  other  instead  of 
making  fools  of  ourselves  and  of  each  other,  instead  of 
going  on  in  the  present  way,  where  the  rich  complacently 
dupe  themselves  and  demoralize  the  poor,  where  the 
poor  take  a  certain  delight  in  fooling  the  charity- 
mongers,  and  where  the  real  evil  goes  untouched. 

1  "Then  Salviat  takes  the  opportunity  to  read  the  Landre"cys  a 
little  lecture,  and  a  not  very  effective  one,  on  the  familiar  truth  that 
the  method  of  giving  counts  for  more  than  what  is  given.  Then, 
on  my  word,  he  has  the  air  of  instructing  society  that  charity  would 
be  much  more  effective  if  it  were  applied  without  the  aid  of  inter- 
mediary associations.  And  we  had  for  a  moment  hoped  that  M. 
Brieux  was  going  to  solve  this  social  problem.  A  paltry  conclusion 
for  a  play  so  full  of  talent."  (Les  Annales,  1909.  Article  on  Let 
BienfaiUurs,  pp.  190  ft  seq.) 


38       THE  PLAYS  OF  EUGENE  BRIEUX 

Whether  it  has  had  any  influence  it  is  impossible  to  say, 
but  the  play,  in  spite  of  its  faults,  and  because  of  its 
merits,  is  very  much  worth  while. 

L'EvASioN1.  Comedy  in  three  acts.  Played  for  the 
first  time  December  7,  1896,  at  the  Comedie  Frangaise; 
given  thirteen  times  in  December,  1896,  thirty-eight 
times  in  1897,  five  times  in  1898;  the  first  play  by 
M.  Brieux  produced  at  the  Comedie  Franqaise;  crowned 
by  the  Academy. 

Doctor  Bertry  is  a  successful  physician,  honoured  and 
ambitious  for  more  honours  yet.  Believing  thoroughly 
in  advertisement,  he  is  busy  on  his  biography,  assisted 
by  his  assistant,  La  Belleuse;  he  writes  himself  down 
as  one  of  the  medical  celebrities  of  the  age,  and  especially 
plumes  himself  on  his  great  work,  "douze  volumes 
chez  Alcan"  dealing  with  the  subject  of  heredity,  going 
beyond  Lucas,  Morel,  Galton,  in  proving  the  invincible 
force  of  its  laws.  In  spite  of  all  his  science  he  cannot 
cure  himself.  He  is  at  heart  a  quack,  and  a  tyrannical 
quack.  Jean  Belmont,  his  stepson,  is  doomed  to  com- 
mit suicide  (according  to  the  Bertry  theory  of  heredity) 
because  his  father  was  a  hypochondriac  and  committed 
suicide.  Lucienne  Bertry,  niece  to  the  doctor,  is 
doomed  to  an  immoral  life  because  her  mother  was  a 
courtesan.  The  romance  brewing  between  Lucienne 
and  Belmont  has  to  fight  its  way  against  the  imperious 
dictates  of  "science."  But  the  two  prisoners  escape 
together;  summoning  up  sufficient  will-power,  they 
defy  "science'*  and  marry,  Jean,  unconscious  of  the 
humor  of  it,  threatening  to  kill  himself  unless  Bertry 
consents.  Bertry  yields,  but  only  to  the  threat,  and 
still  clings  to  his  dogma.  The  test  comes  when  Lu- 

i  The  Escape. 


BLANCHETTE  TO  LA  ROBE  ROUGE      39 

cienne,  now  the  wife  of  Belmont,  is  made  love  to  by 
Paul  de  Maucourt.  She  is  for  a  while  fascinated  by  the 
terror  of  her  heredity,  but  her  love  for  her  husband  tells 
in  the  end,  for  Maucourt  is  a  blackguard.  Meanwhile 
Jean  has  grown  fat  on  good  food  and  country  air  and 
his  melancholia  disappears.  The  play  closes  ironically, 
Bertry,  near  the  agony  —  pulling  himself  together  to 
keep  up  appearances  and  get  through  a  public  speech. 
There  is  some  admirable  satire  on  the  medical  pro- 
fession,1 there  are  some  splendid  bits  of  character 
painting  (le  p&re  Guernoche,  the  shepherd-healer,  is  a 
telling  part,  created  by  Coquelin  cadet),  but  it  is  not  a 
good  play.  It  is  not  well  focussed.  It  is  not  satisfied 
with  being  a  satire  on  the  medical  profession,  it  is  an 
attempt  to  do  what  M.  Curel  has  done  better  in  La 
Nouvelle  Idole  —  an  attempt  to  dethrone  science  from 
its  arrogant  position  as  successor  to  religion.  M.  Curel 
is  not  the  dramatist  that  M.  Brieux  is,  but  he  is  more 
the  man  of  ideas;  he  can  handle  ideas  better;  he  has 
chosen  a  better  instance  of  the  arrogance  of  science. 
What  serious  member  of  the  medical  profession  would 
dream  of  maintaining  the  attitude  of  Bertry?  He  is 
only  a  charlatan,  an  imbecile,  whereas  the  doctor  in 
La  Nouvelle  Idole  is  an  enthusiastic  specialist,  a  martyr 
to  his  work.  UEvasion  is  an  attack  on  charlatanism, 
it  is  not  an  attack  on  science.  Charlatanism  and 
science  cannot  be  hit  by  the  same  stone. 

1  "  The  admirable  thing  about  this  play  of  M.  Brieux  is  the  vehicle, 
the  satirical  portions.  I  will  not  say  that  these  are  equal  to  Moltere, 
seeing  that  I  don't  pretend  to  judge  of  that,  but  I  believe  it  is  the 
most  frank  and  realistic  satire  on  medicine  and  doctors  that  has 
appeared  since  Moltere.",  (Lemaitre,  Impressions,  Xme.  Serif, 
P.  S2-) 


40      THE  PLAYS  OF  EUGENE  BRIEUX 

UEvasion,  one  of  the  least  satisfying  plays  by  M. 
Brieux,  was  crowned  by  the  Academy;  it  is  even  an 
irritating  play,  irritating  in  the  same  way  as  Menages 
<T  Artistes.  The  attack  on  science  is  as  puerile  as  the 
attack  on  the  Symbolist  poets;  it  is  only  an  attitude 
taken  for  the  moment;  it  is  by  no  means  part  of  the 
author's  creed;  indeed,  it  has  been  completely  forgotten 
in  Les  Avarifc  and  the  second  version  of  Maternite, 
where  a  medical  specialist  is  the  mouthpiece  of  the 
author. 

LES  TROIS  FILLES  DE  MONSIEUR  DUPONT.  Comedy 
in  four  acts.  Played  for  the  first  time,  October  8, 
1897,  in  Paris,  at  the  Thedtre  du  Gymnase;  played 
fifty-nine  times  in  1897. 

This  play  ranks  with  La  Robe  Rouge  and  Les  Rem- 
plaqantes  as  one  of  the  three  great  plays  by  M.  Brieux. 
It  is  one  of  the  three  plays  chosen  for  the  introductory 
volume  of  the  English  translations  for  which  Mr.  Shaw 
stands  sponsor.  An  extract  from  it  (Act  I,  Scene  5)  is 
to  be  found  in  the  Anthologie  du  Thedtre  Contemporain. 
It  is  one  of  the  plays  by  which  M.  Brieux  must  be 
judged.  It  is  a  "play  unpleasant,"  but  not  after  the 
Thedtre  Libre  pattern;  the  pattern  is  the  pattern  of  M. 
Brieux. 

M.  Dupont  is  a  small  printer  in  a  small  provincial 
town.  He  is  very  anxious  to  marry  off  his  daughter 
Julie.  He  has  two  other  daughters  by  his  first  wife  — 
Caroline,  who  has  remained  single  and  become  devote, 
Ang&le,  who  has  remained  single  and  is  now  a  pros- 
perous prostitute  in  Paris.  But  Julie  —  Julie  is  to 
be  married!  And  M.  Dupont  sets  about  the  business 
with  all  his  business  instincts  alert,  determined  to 


BLANCHETTE  TO  LA  ROBE  ROUGE      41 

swindle  the  other  party  to  the  deal,  the  mother  of 
Antonin  Mairaut.  The  business  duel  goes  on  between 
Mairaut  mkre  and  Dupont  p&re.  Nothing  could  be 
more  biting  than  this  satire  on  what  the  institution  of 
marriage  has  come  to  be  under  the  system  of  the  dot 
and  paternal  authority.  Dupont  has  his  eye  upon 
the  uncle  of  Mairaut,  foncle  Marechal,  a  wealthy 
man  who  must  leave  all  he  has  to  Antonin,  and  who, 
from  his  official  position,  can  flood  the  printer's  shop 
of  Dupont  with  official  orders.  Is  Antonin  the  right 
husband  for  Julie?  Stuff  and  nonsense,  of  course  he 
is!  The  deal  comes  off.  This  first  act  is  as  fine  as 
anything  M.  Brieux  has  ever  done.  I  refrain  from 
quoting  only  because  it  is  accessible  to  English  readers. 
M.  Dupont  agrees  to  give  thirty  thousand  francs  and 
his  house  at  Saint  Laurent.  Antonin  has  only  his 
prospects  of  being  heir  to  Poncle  Marechal.  The' 
union  thus  brought  about  is  an  abomination  —  the 
husband  a  heartless  sensualist  with  an  economical 
distaste  for  children,  the  wife  a  romanesque,  high- 
spirited  girl  whose  one  hope  for  salvation  lies  in  her 
children.  She  is  disillusioned,  demoralized,  degraded, 
and  both  parties  to  the  deal  have  their  eyes  opened. 
The  maison  de  Saint  Laurent  is  flooded  and  uninhabit- 
able, while  Voncle  Marshal  turns  out  to  be  a  ruined 
man,  having  lost  all  his  fortune  in  the  Panama  bubble. 
But  the  real  centre  of  interest  is  Julie. 

Things  go  from  bad  to  worse,  her  every  feeling  is  out- 
raged —  a  pitiful  story  told  with  relentless  truth  — 
until  the  explosion  comes  brutally  enough  at  the  end 
of  the  third  act  and  Julie  leaves  her  husband.  Nothing 
quite  like  this  had  been  given  before  to  the  French  stage. 


42       THE  PLAYS  OF  EUGENE  BRIEUX 

It  is  not  the  dreary,  morbid  pessimism  of  the  The&tre 
Libre  that  prompts  this  work;  it  is  too  vitally  honest, 
too  profoundly  true;  only  a  man  of  strong  faith  could 
dare  to  paint  such  a  picture. 

And  what  is  Julie  to  do?  Which  is  the  better  off  — 
Julie,  Caroline,  or  Angele?  These  questions  are  raised 
in  the  last  act  when  the  sisters  are  brought  together, 
and  Julie,  submitting  to  her  fate,  returns  to  the  man 
she  loathes,  crushed  by  the  machine.  What  other 
possibilities  are  there  in  a  woman's  life  under  such  a 
system? 

Apart  from  the  value  of  the  manifesto,  the  play  is  a 
great  play  —  missionary  and  dramatist  are  fused  into 
one. 

"The  new  play  of  M.  Brieux,  Les  Trois  Filles  de  M. 
Dupont,  is  a  noteworthy  comedy  of  morals.  It  appears 
to  me  to  be,  and  by  far,  the  best  that  he  has  done  up  to 
the  present,  the  least  didactic  in  form,  the  richest  in 
observation,  and  the  most  powerful,  j 

"In  big  subjects  there  is  a  pull  —  the  author  has  only 
to  take  a  firm  grip.  But  he  must  have  both  faith  and 
strength,  enough  natural  candor  not  to  be  afraid  of 
being  commonplace,  and  enough  talent  not  to  be  com- 
monplace. With  a  persistent  faith  and  increasing 
skill  M.  Brieux  continues  at  the  theatre  to  set  before 
us  his  critiques  of  social  problems,  which  are  also 
critiques  of  the  caprices,  vices,  mistakes  and  sores  of 
our  democracy.  He  has  shown  us  the  misfortune  of 
those  girls  who  are  alienated  from  their  social  class  by 
too  much  educating,  the  corruption  of  the  electorate 
and  of  representative  bodies,  the  hypocrisy  and  in- 
adequacy of  philanthropic  organizations,  and  the  harm 


BLANCHETTE  TO  LA  ROBE  ROUGE   43 

that  can  come  from  scientific  superstitions.  All  that 
is  very  important.  But  this  time  he  has  found  a 
problem  of  still  more  agitating  interest,  if  that  is 
possible,  whose  appeal  is  even  more  vital.  The  question 
is  what  is  to  become  of  the  many  poor  girls  of  the  mid- 
dle class  of  today  where  an  abominable  custom  denies 
to  them  the  right  to  marry  without  a  dowry.  The 
alternative  is  plain;  they  go  wrong,  they  do  not  marry, 
or  they  marry  badly.  And  fundamentally  considered, 
those  who  marry  badly,  or  those  who  do  not  marry 
at  all,  miss  their  proper  destiny  no  less  than  those  who 
go  wrong.  Such  are  the  truths  demonstrated  by  M. 
Brieux's  comedy  of  morals. 

"The  last  act  of  Les  Trois  Filles  de  M.  Dupont  is 
assuredly  only  a  study  in  pessimism.  The  play  would 
end  with  a  deplorable  effect  if  one  were  not  conscious 
of  the  artificiality  of  this  act.  Here,  moreover,  didac- 
ticism, that  species  of  '  I-told-you-so,'  dear  to  the  heart 
of  an  author,  is  a  little  too  obvious.  But  for  all  that, 
the  play  in  its  entirety  is  wonderfully  real  and  full  of 
merit.  The  talent  of  M.  Brieux  increases  from  year 
to  year,  and  it  delights  me  because  it  is  the  talent  of 
neither  the  professed  humanist,  nor  of  the  Philistine; 
and  because  there  is  at  the  same  time  a  naive  frankness 
and  a  keen  insight,  a  sober  honesty  and  a  stinging 
resentment,  a  realism  and  an  idealism,  a  touch  of 
Poor  Richard,  and  a  touch  of  Schopenhauer,  a  certain 
confidence  and  a  certain  diffidence,  an  incertitude 
extremely  interesting  in  its  sincerity.  And  what  a 
thorough-going  type,  what  a  splendid  high  comedy 
type  truly,  is  M.  Dupont!  —  not  to  speak  of  much  that 


44       THE  PLAYS  OF  EUGENE  BRIEUX 

has  slipped  from  my  memory."  (Lemaitre,  Impres- 
sions, Xme.  Seri6,  p.  278.) 

L'EcoLE  DBS  BELLES-MERES.  Comedy  in  one  act. 
Played  for  the  first  time  in  Paris,  at  the  Thedlre  du 
Gymnase,  March  25,  1898. 

The  subject  of  the  play  is  obvious  from  the  title. 
To  a  great  extent  it  is  a  repetition  of  the  last  act  of  La 
Couvee.  (See  page  20.) 

RESULTAT  DES  COURSES.  Comedy  in  five  acts  and 
six  tableaux.  First  played  at  the  Thedlre  Antoine, 
Paris,  December  9,  1898;  performed  twenty-six  times 
in  1898,  twenty-seven  times  in  1899. 

The  action  of  this  play  is  situated  among  the  working 
classes  of  Paris,  from  which  M.  Brieux  has  risen.  To 
gather  the  necessary  information,  to  get  the  necessary 
detail  and  atmosphere,  he  disguised  himself  as  a  work- 
man and  entered  an  atelier.  But  he  was  soon  dis- 
covered. 

At  the  lunch  hour  he  went  with  his  fellow-workmen 
to  the  wine  shop.  He  got  up  on  a  table:  — 

"My  friends,"  said  he,  "I  am  not  an  engraver,  I 
am  an  author  of  plays.  My  name  is  Eugene  Brieux, 
and  I  produce  plays  of  which  perhaps  you  have  heard 
—  Les  Sienfaiteurs,  Les  Trots  Filles  de  M.  Dupont, 
Blanchette." 

One  of  the  men  present,  a  reader,  exclaimed:  "I 
should  say  so!  Of  course  we  know  Blanchette!" 

Brieux  explained  what  he  was  there  for. 

"At  least,  you  are  going  to  invite  us  to  the  first 
performance " 

"You  shall  be  there!" 

When  the  curtain  rose  on  the  dress  rehearsal  the  entire 


BLANCHETTE  TO  LA  ROBE  ROUGE      45 

shop  was  in  the  audience.  It  was  before  such  a  sym- 
pathetic and  impressionable  audience  that  the  drama 
first  unfolded  its  impressive  lessons.  "I  felt  that 
evening,"  Brieux  said  to  me,  "the  finest  intoxication 
that  it  has  ever  been  granted  me  to  experience.  I 
love  my  engravers  better  than  the  subscribers  of  the 
Comedie  Frangaise"1 

That  he  never  lost  this  sympathy  with  the  Paris  plebs 
is  demonstrated  by  his  expressions  on  several  occasions, 
notably  in  his  Discours  at  the  Academy,  May  12,  1910. 

"Messieurs,  I  am  not  so  lacking  in  modesty  as  to 
be  unaware  that  the  dream  of  my  youth  (his  election 
to  the  Academy)  would  have  remained  a  dream  had 
I  offered  for  your  indulgent  consideration  my  literary 
merits  alone.  And  ...  I  interpret  my  presence 
here  as  being  due  to  your  wish  to  give  a  proof  of  your 
sympathy,  not  for  what  I  have  accomplished,  but  for 
what  I  have  aimed  to  do.  Without  doubt,  again, 
you  have  especially  wished  to  extend  a  friendly  hand 
to  the  working  class  from  which  I  came,  and  which 
has  not  too  often  heard  flattering  words  except  from 
those  who  wished  to  obtain  from  it  the  right  to  gov- 
ern it." 

With  this  play  M.  Brieux  returns  to  his  friend 
Antoine,  who  had  performed  nothing  of  his  since 
Blanchette,  which  had  reached  in  the  January  of  that 
year  (1898)  its  hundredth  performance  by  Antoine. 
The  chief  part  in  Resultat  des  Courses  —  Ars6ne  Chan- 
taud,  le  pere  la  Joie,  was  played  with  remarkable 
success  by  Antoine  himself. 

1  Adolphe  Brisson,  Les  Prophttes,  p.  341.  Flammarion  et 
Tallandier. 


46       THE  PLAYS  OF  EUGENE  BRIEUX 

Chantaud  is  a  bronze- worker  in  the  atelier  of  Lesterel. 
One  day  he  enters,  exuberant  with  joy;  he  has  just 
won  heavily  at  the  races,  stands  drinks  all  round, 
and  makes  a  present  of  a  silver  watch  and  a  gold 
chain  to  his  son  Victor,  who  is  the  best  workman  in  the 
place,  highly  favored  by  his  employer,  Lesterel,  and 
in  love  with  Lucie  Lesterel.  After  his  first  piece  of  luck 
Chantaud  gets  the  gambling  fever;  finally  he  uses  a 
large  sum  of  money  —  twelve  hundred  francs  —  which 
he  had  been  sent  to  collect  for  M.  Lesterel,  and  of  course 
loses  that.  His  employer  does  not  prosecute  him,  but 
makes  him  sign  a  declaration  of  theft  and  dismisses  him. 
Meanwhile  the  Chantaud  family  gets  poorer  and  poorer, 
all  the  father's  pay  being  lost  at  the  races.  The  women 
slave  and  Victor  is  the  dutiful  son  —  but  they  are 
turned  out  of  their  home.  Chantaud  cannot  get  any 
employment  because  the  necessary  reference  to  his 
last  employer  would  bring  out  the  truth.  He  drifts 
from  bad  to  worse,  and  is  at  last  arrested  as  a  loiterer. 
He  appears  before  the  Commissaire  with  a  crowd  of 
other  wretches,  the  greater  part  of  whom  ask  to  be 
sent  to  gaol  as  a  favor.  Happily,  Victor  has  worked 
hard  and  become  the  partner  of  Lesterel,  and  recon- 
structs the  home,  into  which  the  demoralized  father 
has  to  be  lured. 

LE  BERCEAU.  Comedy  in  three  acts.  First  played 
at  the  Com£die  Frangaise,  December  19,  1898.  Played 
six  times  in  1898  and  fifteen  times  in  1899. 

Laurence,  under  pressure  from  her  parents,  has 
divorced  her  husband,  Raymond  Chantrel,  for  infidelity. 
She  has  married,  again  under  pressure  from  her  parents, 
the  correct  Monsieur  de  Girieu,  There  is  one  child  of 


BLANCHETTE  TO  LA  ROBE  ROUGE      47 

the  first  union,  le  petit  Julien,  of  whom  the  mother  has 
custody,  and  whom  the  correct  M.  Girieu  hates  with  the 
hatred  only  a  correct  man  is  capable  of  feeling.  The 
little  boy,  while  at  the  house  of  his  grandparents,  falls 
seriously  ill,  so  ill  that  he  cannot  be  taken  home  under 
the  roof  of  M.  Girieu.  The  boy's  father,  Raymond 
Chantrel,  hearing  of  the  illness,  hurries  to  him,  insists 
on  seeing  him  and  on  staying  at  his  bedside  until  he 
is  out  of  danger.  Girieu  protests  violently,  but  in  vain. 

The  situation,  so  full  of  dramatic  possibilities,  is 
brought  about  by  the  most  natural  means.  Laurence 
and  Raymond  are  once  more  brought  into  close  contact 
with  one  another,  the  natural  bond  between  them  is 
to  test  the  force  of  the  artificial  power  that  has  separated 
them.  Three  nights  of  the  greatest  anxiety  are  passed 
in  silence,  no  words  save  such  as  have  immediate  bearing 
on  the  illness  of  the  child  pass  between  them,  every 
effort  is  made  to  respect  their  artificial  separation,  but, 
at  last,  the  force  of  the  natural  bond  is  too  great  and 
they  fall  into  each  other's  arms.  In  spite  of  everything 
they  love  each  other  and  are  united  in  their  child. 

M.  Girieu  refuses  to  allow  the  boy  to  come  under  his 
roof  again  after  his  recovery,  which  means  that  Laurence 
stays  away  too;  she  cannot  be  separated  from  her 
child;  she  refuses  to  live  with  her  second  husband  and 
takes  leave  of  her  first  because  she  and  Raymond  are 
too  high-minded  to  rebuild  their  happiness  at  the 
expense  of  another's  —  they  owe  that  at  least  to  Girieu. 
"  Laissez-mo i  seule  id  avec  mon  pere  et  ma  mdre,  ft 
toute  d  mon  enfant" 

The  play  is  an  attack  on  divorce  where  there  are 
children.  The  parents  must  be  sacrificed  to  the  family; 


48       THE  PLAYS  OF  EUGENE  BRIEUX 

no  code  can  make  legitimate  the  breaking  of  the 
natural  family  bond.  If  there  are  no  children  we  may 
divorce,  remarry,  or  do  what  we  like,  but  the  family  is 
sacred. 

"The  law  could  declare  us  separated,  we  could 
inwardly  swear  indifference,  and  to  forget  each  other; 
lawyers,  judges,  the  civil  code  and  all  the  laws  of  the 
world  could  proclaim  that  we  were  strangers;  but  the 
child  remained.  And  nature,  which  is  concerned  only 
for  the  child,  nature  that  wills  that  the  father  and 
mother  shall  remain  united  in  order  to  insure  the 
existence  of  the  child,  and  to  perpetuate  life,  nature 
took  again  by  assault  the  rights  of  which  it  was  pro- 
posed to  rob  her,  and  reunited  the  father  and  mother 
in  an  irresistible  embrace.  .  .  .",  etc. 

The  idea  of  the  sanctity  of  the  family  haunts  M. 
Brieux.  The  first  complete  expression  of  it  is  in  this 
play,  but  it  is  always  at  the  back  of  his  brain.  The 
centre  of  the  family  is  the  child,  fraught  with  all  the 
possibilities  of  the  future.  The  right  to  happiness,  the 
social  ambition  of  parents,  is  an  abomination  in  so 
far  as  it  interferes  with  the  life  of  the  family.  The 
institution  of  the  dowry  and  paternal  authority  falsify 
the  family  life  before  it  begins.  Away  with  them! 
Le  Berceau  helps  to  make  clear  the  point  of  view  from 
which  Les  Trois  Filles  de  M.  Dupont  was  written.  The 
attack  on  the  code  is  worth  noting  also.  Already 
in  Le  Bureau  des  Divorces,  he  had  made  fun  of  the 
divorce  law  as  soon  as  it  came  into  force;  now  he  returns 
to  criticism  of  the  code.  In  this  way  Le  Berceau 
heralds  La  Robe  Rouge,  which,  not  satisfied  with  criti- 
cizing one  particular  article  of  the  code,  attacks  the 


BLANCHETTE  TO  LA  ROBE  ROUGE      49 

institution  of  Justice  itself.  Le  Berceau  is  not  a  bad 
play.  It  is  full  of  sound  ideas  and  appeals  especially 
to  sensibly  sentimental  mothers  who  have  not  too 
fastidious  a  taste  in  literary  style.  It  has  some  very 
good  scenes  and  the  first  act  is  an  excellent  piece  of 
work.  The  characters  belong  to  a  world  of  which  M. 
Brieux  knows  nothing,  and  he  has  not  been  able  to 
imagine  their  intimate  feelings.  It  would  be  as  un- 
gracious to  exact  from  M.  Brieux  the  subtle  skill  of 
a  Donnay  in  handling  emotion,  as  to  exact  from  M. 
Donnay  the  conviction  and  power  of  a  Brieux.  It  is 
excusable  to  situate  the  subject  in  such  a  milieu,  the 
poor  people  whom  M.  Brieux  knows  best  cannot  afford 
to  indulge  in  the  luxury  of  divorce. 


Chapter  IV 
La  Robe  Rouge 

LA  ROBE  ROUGE.  Play  in  four  acts.  Played 
for  the  first  time  at  the  Thedtre  du  Vaudeville, 
March  15,  1900.  Revived  at  the  Thedtre  Franqais, 
September  23,  1909.  Played  sixty-four  times  at  the 
Vaudeville  and  twenty-one  times  at  the  Frangais  in 
1909.  Withdrawn  by  M.  Brieux  from  the  repertory 
of  the  Thedtre  Frangais  in  July,  1911,  after  the  depar- 
ture from  that  theatre  of  the  actor,  M.  Huguenet. 

The  scene  of  the  play  is  at  Mauleon  (Basses  Pyre'ne'es) 
in  the  country  of  the  Basques.  Act  I  is  at  the  house  of 
Vagret,-the  Procureur  de-  la  Republique.  A  crime  has 
been  committed  at  Irrisary  —  le  pere  Goyetche,  an 
old  man  of  eighty-seven,  has  been  robbed  and  killed. 
The  murderer  remains  undiscovered  and  the  newspapers 
of  the  district  —  even  the  Basque  newspaper  —  take 
occasion  to  rail  at  the  slowness  of  Justice  and  even  to 
attack  the  Procureur  de  la  Republique,  Monsieur 
Vagret. 

Madame  Vagret  is  in  great  grief.  For  years  she  has 
waited  for  the  promotion  of  her  husband  to  the  rank  of 
Judge.1  Years  ago  she  bought  him  his  robe  —  the 

lThe  original,  conseiller,  is  the  title  of  a  rank  not  always  implying 
the  same  office  in  the  judicial  system  of  France,  whose  magistrates 
are  graded  according  to  the  importance  of  their  district  and  duties. 
The  conseiller  may  be  either  a  judge  or  the  prosecuting  officer  of  a 
criminal  court  with  jury  sitting  in  an  important  district.  The 
official  gown  is  the  Red  Robe.  Magistrates  of  lesser  rank  wear 
black  gowns. 

50 


LA  ROBE  ROUGE  51 

red  robe  of  a  Judge  —  but  has  had  to  keep  it  in  the 
wardrobe  reeking  of  naphthalene  to  keep  the  moth 
out.  And  now  his  promotion  is  imminent.  If  only 
he  could  obtain  an  important  crime  and  a  reputation- 
making  conviction  his  appointment  would  be  certain. 
The  important  crime  has  been  given  to  them,  but  — 
the  conviction?  There  is  the  difficulty,  for  the  culprit 
cannot  be  found.  The  investigating  magistrate,  D6- 
lorme,  gives  up  the  case  in  despair,  the  President  des 
Assises  begs  to  be  excused  from  the  end-of-session 
dinner  given  by  Mme.  Vagret;  as  the  guests  assemble 
the  future  looks  black  indeed  for  the  Vagrets. 

But  things  brighten.  M.  le  Juge  Mouzon  (the  part 
played  by  Huguenet)  is  willing  to  accept  the  papers 
ordering  investigation  of  the  Irissary  murder  which 
his  colleague,  Delorme,  has  returned  to  the  public 
prosecutor,  Vagret.  Mouzon  has  a  brilliant  idea;  he 
differs  entirely  from  Delorme,  who,  according  to  him, 
is  on  the  wrong  track  in  assuming  that  the  murderer 
was  a  vagabond.  Mouzon  is  convinced  that  the 
murderer  is  a  local  man,  a  man  who  had  something  to 
gain  by  the  crime. 

Vagret.    That  is  very  well  argued. 

Bunerat.  In  my  opinion  it  is  remarkably  logical 
and  convincing. 

Mouzon.  Take  my  word  for  it.  The  case  is  simple 
enough.  If  I  were  in  charge  of  the  investigation  I 
would  guarantee  to  have  the  guilty  man  locked  up 
inside  of  three  days. 

Vagret.  Well,  my  dear  colleague,  I  have  a  bit  of 
news  for  you.  M.  Delorme,  who  is  not  at  all  well, 


52       THE  PLAYS  OF  EUGENE  BRIEUX 

returned  the  investigation  to  me  this  afternoon,  and 
it  falls  to  you.  After  this  you  will  have  charge  of  the 
investigation  in  the  Irissary  case. 

Mouzon.  I  needn't  tell  you  that  I  accept,  my  dear 
procureur.  It  is  my  duty  to  accept.  I  will  take  back 
nothing  that  I  have  said:  within  three  days  the  mur- 
derer will  be  under  arrest. 

Bunerat.     Good ! 

Vagret.  I  thank  you  for  that  assurance  in  behalf  of 
all  of  us.  I  tell  you  frankly  that  you  have  relieved 
us  of  a  great  anxiety.  (To  his  wife)  Did  you  hear,  my 
dear?  M.  Mouzon  will  take  up  the  investigation  and 
he  assures  us  results  within  three  days. 

Mme.  Vagret.    Thank  you,  Monsieur  Mouzon. 

Mme.  Bunerat.    Thank  you. 

Vagret.  Bertha!  Tell  them  to  serve  dinner.  And 
tell  them  to  bring  up  some  old  Irroule"guy!  (To 
Mouzon)  I  want  to  drink  to  our  success,  my  friend. 

The  man-servant  (enters).     Dinner  is  served. 

And,  as  the  curtain  descends,  everything  is  well 
from  the  professional  point  of  view,  and  the  holders 
of  this  point  of  view,  full  of  the  zest  of  life,  are  conscious 
of  being  perfectly  charming  human  beings. 

Mouzon  keeps  his  word,  he  finds  a  culprit  —  Etche- 
pare.  The  murderer  of  la  p6re  Goyetche  can  be 
none  other  than  he,  a.  peasant,  who  owed  the  murdered 
man  a  considerable  sum,  and,  of  course,  took  the  easiest 
way  of  getting  rid  of  the  debt.  Mouzon  is  a  terrible 
man,  his  diabolical  ingenuity,  his  pitiless  obstinacy  in 
holding  to  his  logical  theory  (as  if  he  were  dealing  with 


LA  ROBE  ROUGE  53 

mathematical  symbols  and  were  trying  to  prove  his 
point)  show  him  to  be  utterly  unfit  to  administer  justice 
to  human  beings.  He  is  not  a  man,  he  is  a  dehumanized 
specialist. 

The  second  act  takes  place  in  his  room  —  the  office 
of  Mouzon,  investigating  magistrate.  Mouzon  has 
been  on  the  spree  at  Bordeaux  the  night  before  and  has 
a  "head,"  but  he  is  a  keen  stamp  collector  and  can  be 
prevented  by  no  headache  from  sticking  some  newly 
arrived  stamps  in  his  album  as  he  waits  until  it  is  time 
for  the  instruction  to  begin. 

Mondoubleau,  the  deputy,  a  Gascon,  turns  in  to  see 
about  the  case  of  a  friend  of  his,  Labastide,  one  of 
his  best  electioneering  agents.  The  deputy  is  a  man 
to  be  cultivated;  Mouzon  flatters  him,  makes  light  of 
the  newspaper  attack  upon  himself. 

Mouzon.  What  do  you  expect,  Monsieur  Deputy! 
This  paper  is  against  you,  and  as  it  doesn't  trouble  me 
to  support  your  candidacy  openly,  it  charges  up  against 
the  magistrate  the  opinions  of  the  citizen 

Mondoubleau.  I  am  so  sorry  —  and  I  thank  you 
very  much,  my  friend,  very  much  indeed.  But  go  on. 
However,  you  will  —  be  prudent.  The  Minister  of 
Justice  said  to  me  only  the  day  before  yesterday:  "I 
depend  on  you  to  save  me  any  embarrassment  in  your 
district.  No  scandals!  Above  all,  no  scandals!  I 
ought  to  tell  you  that  Eug&ne  is  being  attacked  a  good 
deal  just  now." 

Mouzon.  You  and  the  Minister  of  Justice  are  really 
on  terms  of  intimacy  so 


54       THE  PLAYS  OF  EUGENE  BRIEUX 

Mondoubleau  (with  a  slight  gesture,  simply).  We  were 
in  the  Commune  together 

Decidedly  this  is  a  man  to  be  cultivated.  As  a 
deputy  he  was  worth  much  to  such  a  ferocious  arriviste 
as  Mouzon,  but  as  an  intimate  friend  of  the  minister  of 
justice,  a  man  who  calls  him  Eugene,  who  thees  and 
thous  him  — •  why  —  he  is  beyond  price,  he  may  have 
anything  he  wants  without  even  asking.  Labastide 
need  not  worry,  there  is  no  case  against  him. 

Mouzon.  Good-bye.  (The  deputy  goes  out,  leaving 
him  alone.)  I  rather  think  our  deputy  won't  have  too 
bad  an  opinion  of  me  after  this. 

And  what  is  a  man  accused  of  murder  to  a  Mouzon? 

"The  fact  is,  I  was  pretty  keen  to  suspect  Etchepare; 
now  the  thing  is  to  make  him  confess,  and  the  sooner 
the  better." 

And  he  sets  to  work  in  a  hustle. 

Mouzon  (seated,  handing  the  papers  in  the  case  to  the 
clerk).  In  that  Labastide  case,  make  me  out  an  order 
of  "insufficient  grounds"  and  the  order  for  immediate 
release.  You  can  do  that  during  the  examination  of 
witnesses.  Come,  let's  get  to  work!  It's  already  two 
o'clock  and  we  haven't  got  anything  done  yet.  Hurry 
up  —  Let  me  see  —  What  are  you  waiting  for? —  Give 
me  the  list  of  witnesses  —  Didn't  you  understand  me? 
What  is  the  matter  with  you  today? 

A  witness  for  the  defence,  Bridet,  is  summoned, 
browbeaten,  sent  about  his  business  in  short  order. 
And  now  it  is  the  turn  of  Etchepare.  Maitre  Placat, 
the  avocat  in  charge  of  the  defence,  without  whose 


LA  ROBE  ROUGE  55 

presence  the  investigating  magistrate  may  not  question 
the  accused,  steps  in.1 

Act  II,  Scene  6.  Mouzon.  Good  afternoon,  my 
friend,  how  are  you  ? 

Placat.  Very  well  —  and  how  are  you,  my  friend  ? 
I  caught  a  glimpse  of  you  last  evening  at  the  Grand 
Theatre;  you  were  with  an  extremely  pretty  young 
lady. 

Mouzon.    Oh,  yes,  the  fact  is  —  I 

Placat.  I  beg  your  pardon.  By  the  way,  I  wanted 
to  say  a  word  to  you  in  regard  to  the  Etchepare  case. 

Mouzon.  If  you  are  at  liberty  now,  we  will  proceed 
immediately  with  the  examination. 

Placat.  That  is  just  the  point  • —  I  haven't  a  moment 
to  spare 

Mouzon.  Do  you  want  me  to  put  it  over  until 
tomorrow? 

Placat.  No.  I  have  just  had  a  talk  with  the 
prisoner.  The  case  is  of  no  interest;  he  denies,  and 
denies,  that's  all.  He  is  willing  to  be  examined  without 
me  (he  laughs).  And  I  won't  deny  to  you,  my  dear 
friend,  that  I  have  advised  him  to  persist  in  his  policy. 
But  I  must  be  off  —  good-bye.  If  he  asks  for  a  lawyer, 
later  on,  let  me  know,  and  I  will  send  one  of  my  clerks. 

1  In  the  original  version  Mattre  Placat  does  not  even  put  in  an 
appearance. 

Mouzon  (to  the  clerk).  Note  in  the  record  that  M.  Placat,  though 
duly  notified  by  the  court,  has  not  appeared,  and  has  communicated 
no  reason  for  his  absence. 

Etchepare  (speaks  up).    Isn't  my  lawyer  here? 

Mouzon.  Your  lawyer  has  had  notice  to  appear.  He  has  not 
appeared.  No  doubt  he  is  busy  with  other  clients. 

Etchepare.    Because  I'm  not  able  to  pay  him  enough  money. 

Mouzon.  That  does  not  concern  me.  He  has  been  notified  — 
he  is  not  here.  We  will  proceed. 


56      THE  PLAYS  OF  EUGENE  BRIEUX 

Mouzon.     All  right.     Hope  to  see  you  soon. 

And  the  counsel  for  the  defence  (who  ought,  according 
to  law,  to  be  present  at  the  inlerrogatoire)  leaves  Etche- 
pare  to  the  mercy  of  the  bustling  juge  d' instruction. 

The  absence  of  Placat  has  been  very  much  criticized; 
this  point  will  be  taken  up  later. 

Then  follows  Scene  7  —  the  scene  of  the  interrogator*. 
It  should  be  given  entire  to  be  appreciated,  but  it  is  too 
long  to  quote.  It  is  a  great  scene.  Mouzon  plays  with 
Etchepare  as  a  cat  with  a  mouse  —  working  on  his 
feelings,  twisting  him  this  way  and  that,  turning  on 
him  with  a  quick  thrust,  appealing  to  him  persuasively 
like  a  father,  taking  every  possible  advantage  of  his 
own  skill  and  the  peasant's  helplessness  to  entrap  him 
into  confessing  the  crime. 

In  spite  of  all  the  lies  and  admissions  of  Etchepare, 
in  spite  of  all  the  circumstantial  evidence,  in  spite  of 
all  the  logical  force  on  the  side  of  Mouzon,  we  have  the 
feeling  —  a  deep  conviction  —  that  Etchepare  is 
innocent. 

This  is  the  best  thing  in  all  the  dramatic  work  of  M. 
Brieux. 

Then  follows  the  interrogatoire  of  the  wife  of  the 
accused,  Yanetta  (Act  II,  Scene  9),  a  scene  almost 
worthy  to  rank  with  the  one  just  described.  Yanetta 
has  a  history  —  a  history  recorded  in  her  easier  judi- 
ciaire,  unknown  to  her  husband  or  any  one  in  her  life, 
almost  forgotten  by  herself.  Ten  years  before,  when 
she  was  a  young  servant  girl,  Yanetta  was  seduced 
by  the  son  of  the  house,  who  stole  money  from  his 
father  to  run  away.  They  were  caught;  the  son  was 
let  off;  Yanetta  was  imprisoned  for  a  month.  Mouzon 


LA  ROBE  ROUGE  57 

makes  use  of  this  document  to  force  Yanetta  to  in- 
criminate Etchepare,  but  all  she  says  only  confirms 
our  feelings  that  he  is  innocent.  Mouzon  puts  all 
the  evidence  of  his  guilt  before  Yanetta  and  almost 
succeeds  in  making  her  believe  that  he  is  guilty.  Then 
he  sends  for  the  accused;  husband  and  wife  are  con- 
fronted. This  scene  is  full  of  outbursts.  As  the  man 
and  woman  fight  against  Mouzon  the  emotion  rises 
to  a  high  pitch.  Yanetta  refuses  to  sign  her  inter- 
rogatoire  and  is  arrested. 

Yanetta.  All  there  is  there  is  false!  I  tell  you  it  is 
false.  (Screaming)  The  night  P£re  Goyetche  was 
murdered  my  husband  didn't  leave  the  house  —  my 
husband  didn't  leave  the  house. 

Mouzon  (pale  with  anger).  You  will  settle  with  me 
for  that.  Femme  Etchepare,  I  place  you  under 
arrest  on  the  charge  of  complicity  in  murder.  (To 
the  gendarmes)  Take  him  to  the  detention  room  and 
come  back  and  get  her. 

Yanetta.  Oh!  you  are  mad  now,  are  you,  because 
you  didn't  accomplish  your  purpose! — Oh,  you  have 
done  everything,  everything  you  possibly  could,  though, 
except  to  torture  us  with  fire!  —  You  pretendedto.be 
sympathetic  —  you  spoke  gently!  You  wanted  to 
make  me  send  my  husband  to  the  guillotine.  It  is 
your  business  to  furnish  heads  to  cut  off  —  You  must 
have  guilty  men;  you  must  have  them  at  any  cost. 
When  a  man  has  fallen  into  your  clutches  he  is  a  doomed 
man  —  They  come  in  here  innocent,  but  they  must  go 
out  criminals.  It  satisfies  your  vanity  to  succeed  in 
it!  You  put  questions  that  don't  seem  to  have  any 
harm  in  them  that  can  send  a  man  to  the  next  world, 


58      THE  PLAYS  OF  EUGENE  BRIEUX 

and  when  you  have  forced  a  poor  creature  to  convict 
himself,  you  feel  the  joy  of  a  savage  over  it. 

Mouzon.     Take  her  away;  we  must  get  on. 

Yanetta.  Yes,  of  a  savage.  That  —  justice!  You 
call  that  justice  —  You.  are  an  executioner  —  You  are 
as  cruel  as  they  used  to  be  when  they  broke  people's 
bones  to  make  them  confess!  — You  don't  even  suspect 
it  yourself  and  you  think  yourself  a  good  man,  I  know 
it,  and  you  are  an  executioner 

Mouzon.  I  tell  you  take  her  away!  What,  both 
of  you,  can't  you  rid  me  of  that  maniac? 

Yanetta.  Butcher!  —  Coward!  —  Judas!  —  You're 
pitiless!  Yes,  pitiless  —  and  more  false  and  cruel 
when  you  are  dealing  with  poor  people  like  us!  Yes, 
the  poorer  people  are,  the  more  cruel  you  are!  —  The 
poorer  they  are,  the  more  you 

And  at  last,  after  having  clung  to  furniture  and  doors 
with  a  tenacity  that  defies  the  strength  of  the  two  gen- 
darmes, she  is  carried  away  and  the  curtain  falls  on 
this  outburst  of  rhetoric.  Reading  it,  one  is,  perhaps, 
too  conscious  of  the  rhetoric,  too  conscious  of  the 
trumpet  voice  of  the  author  behind  Yanetta  challenging 
the  Institution  of  Justice.  But  on  the  stage  it  is  effec- 
tive, stirring,  rousing  the  audience  to  the  wildest  en- 
thusiasm. The  second  act  of  La  Robe  Rouge  is  M. 
Brieux  at  his  best. 

Act  III  is  in  the  cabinet  du  Procureur  de  la  R6publique, 
off  the  court  room,  where  the  case  is  being  tried. 
Maltre  Dubois,  counsel  for  the  defence,  pleads  so 
eloquently  that  he  is  applauded  by  the  public  and  the 
acquittal  of  Etchepare  seems  certain.  While  the 
court  is  still  sitting  it  becomes  known  that  the  Pro- 


LA  ROBE  ROUGE  59 

cureur-Ge'ne'ral  has  arrived  at  Mauleon,  obviously 
bringing  somebody's  appointment  to  the  post  of 
conseiller.  Who  is  the  lucky  man?  Is  it  Vagret? 
Is  it  Mouzon?  Mouzon  is  sent  for,  the  Procureur- 
Ge'ne'ral  wishes  to  have  a  private  interview  with  him. 
Mouzon  is  in  great  glee.  The  Procureur  conies  to  the 
point  at  once,  demands  his  resignation  from  the  magis- 
tracy. The  spree  at  Bordeaux  has  resulted  in  an 
open  scandal.  Mouzon  refuses  to  resign,  he  is  not 
afraid  of  the  scandal,  let  the  Procureur  do  what  he 
likes.  The  deputy,  Mondoubleau,  intervenes  to  save 
the  situation;  the  papers  are  about  to  attack  Mouzon 
and  demand  his  removal,  and  the  Minister  of  Justice, 
"Eugene,"  does  not  want  any  disturbance. 

The  Procureur-General.  Unfortunately,  Coire  knows 
all  about  it,  and  threatens  to  tell  the  whole  story  in 
his  paper,  unless  M.  Mouzon  is  removed  from  Mauleon. 

Mondoubleau.    The  deuce!     (He  laughs.) 

The  Procureur-General.     What  amuses  you? 

Mondoubleau.  Nothing  —  a  droll  idea  —  a  mere 
pleasantry.  (He  laughs.)  Tell  me  then  —  but  say, 
you  won't  be  offended,  will  you? —  It's  only  a  jest. 

The  Procureur-General.     What  is  it? 

Mondoubleau.  I  was  thinking  —  as  I  said,  it's 
only  a  droll  idea  —  In  short  —  in  short,  if  you  were 
to  propose  Mouzon  for  the  place  of  Judge  at  Pau, 
you  would  be  pleasing  everybody 

The  Procureur-General.     My  dear   Deputy 

Mondoubleau.  As  it's  only  for  the  fun  of  it,  a  mere 
jest  —  However,  the  amusing  thing  about  what  I 
said  is  that  you  would  with  one  stroke  be  satisfying 


60       THE  PLAYS  OF  EUGENE  BRIEUX 

the  wishes  of  Coire,  of  myself,  of  Mouzon  and  of 

Eugene,  who  doesn't  want  any  scandal 

The  Procureur-General.     But  that  would  be  one 

Mondoubleau.     Mistake.     In  politics  there  is  never 

any  scandal  except  when  there  is  publicity 

The  Procureur-General.     But  then 

Mondoubleau.  I  agree  with  you.  I  know  perfectly 
well  all  they  could  say  —  I  repeat,  I  said  it  only  for 
fun.  And  do  you  know  the  curious  thing  about  it, 
really  —  when  you  think  it  over?  It  is  that  this 
fantastic  solution  is  the  only  one  that  doesn't  involve 
serious  inconveniences  —  apparently  serious  —  Yes, 
certainly  —  If  you  leave  Mouzon  here,  Coire  will 

print  everything 

-f And  the  Procureur-Ge'ne'ral,  who  has  his  eye  on  a 
better  post  in  the  Orleans  circuit,  gives  Mouzon  the 
appointment  at  Pau. 

Meanwhile  the  trial  of  Etchepare  has  been  going  on. 
Vagret  has  replied  to  Dubois,  upset  all  his  arguments, 
made  the  condemnation  well  nigh  inevitable,  and  is  on 
the  point  of  asking  for  judgment,  when  he  suddenly 
becomes  strangely  moved,  pulls  himself  up  and  asks 
that  the  sitting  be  suspended.  Into  the  heart  of  the 
man  creeps  a  doubt  as  to  the  guilt  of  the  accused. 
While  the  professional  mind  was  performing  its  func- 
tions at  its  best,  a  human  sentiment  is  aroused  and 
upsets  everything.  Before  making  known  this  doubt 
to  the  court  Vagret  wishes  to  consult  with  the  President 
of  the  Assizes  and  the  Procureur-Ge'ne'ral.  What  is  his 
duty?  They  will  have  nothing  to  do  with  his  human 
scruples,  they  resent  his  attempts  to  make  them  re- 


LA  ROBE  ROUGE  61 

sponsible  for  his  professional  incapacity,  and  they 
leave  him  to  his  doubts  and  —  his  wife. 

Mme.  Fagret.    What  is  the  matter? 

Fagret.     Nothing. 

Mme.  Fagret.  Nothing?  You  are  depressed,  and 
yet  you  have  just  scored  a  success  that  will  help  you 
in  your  career. 

Fagret.     It  is  that  very  success  that  frightens  me. 

Mme.  Fagret.    That  frightens  you? 

Fagret.     Yes,  I  am  afraid. 

Mme.  Fagret.    Afraid  of  what? 

Fagret.     Of  having  gone  too  far. 

Mme.  Fagret.  Too  farl  —  Doesn't  he  deserve  death 
ten  times  over  —  that  murderer? 

Fagret  (after  a  silence).  You  are  quite  sure,  yourself, 
that  he  is  a  murderer? 

Mme.  Fagret.    Yes. 

Fagret  (in  a  low  voice).     Well  —  I 

Mme.  Fagret.     You? 

Fagret.     I  no  longer  have  any  opinion. 

Mme.  Fagret.     Is  it  possible! 

Fagret.  Yes.  In  the  course  of  my  argument  a  strange 
thing  happened  within  me  —  While  I,  a  public  officer, 
I,  the  official  prosecutor,  was  performing  my  duty, 
another  self  examined  the  evidence  calmly  and  impar- 
tially; an  inner  voice  reproached  me  for  my  violence 
and  insinuated  into  my  mind  a  doubt,  which  grew. 
In  my  soul  began  a  struggle,  painful,  solemn  and 
relentless  —  and  the  reason  why,  in  closing,  I  felt  the 
emotion  the  presiding  judge  referred  to,  and  why  I 
demanded  the  verdict  in  a  scarcely  audible  voice,  was 
that  I  was  worn  out  —  because  in  that  struggle  my 


62       THE  PLAYS  OF  EUGENE  BRIEUX 

conscience  was  on  the  point  of  winning,  and  I  hastened 
to  finish  because  I  was  afraid  that  voice  would  burst 
out  in  spite  of  me.  When  I  saw  that  the  attorney 
for  the  defence  remained  seated  and  was  not  going  to 
address  the  jury  again  to  say  the  things  that  I  would 
have  wished  him  to  say  —  then  I  was  really  afraid  of 
myself  —  of  my  acts,  of  my  words,  of  their  terrible 
consequences,  and  I  wanted  to  gain  time. 

The  struggle  between  the  man  and  the  magistrate  in 
Vagret  continues  to  the  end  of  the  act,  until  he  finally 
decides  to  perform  his  "  duty  of  an  honest  man."  He 
informs  the  jury  of  his  doubts  as  to  the  guilt  of  Etche- 
pare  and  the  man  is  acquitted.  Justice  has  been  done 
—  but  the  man's  life  is  ruined.  Evil  enough  befell 
him  while  under  arrest  —  his  house  had  been  wrecked, 
his  mother  and  his  children  turned  out;  but  this  was 
as  nothing  compared  to  what  he  learnt  in  open  court 
of  his  wife's  early  history. 

Act  IV  takes  place  in  the  office  of  Mouzon  (the  scene 
of  the  second  act).  Etchepare,  on  his  release,  is  to 
leave  for  America  with  his  mother  and  his  children. 
Yanetta  is  to  be  left  behind  —  she  shall  never  see  them 
again. 

Yanetta.     Forgive  me! 

Etchepare.     Never!    Never! 

Yanetta.  Don't  say  that  word  —  only  God  has  the 
right  to  say  "never."  I  will  go  back  to  your  house; 
I  will  be  only  the  first  of  the  servants  —  the  lowest, 
if  you  wish! —  I  won't  take  my  place  at  the  fireside 
until  you  tell  me  to. 

Etchepare.  We  no  longer  have  a  home.  We  no 
longer  have  a  fireside.  We  no  longer  have  anything! 


LA  ROBE  ROUGE  63 

And  I  tell  you  again  it  is  your  fault  —  and  that  it  is 
because  you  came  to  take  the  place  of  the  mother, 
the  place  of  a  mother  like  mine,  you,  a  liar  and  an  insult 
to  God  —  that  misfortune  has  fallen  on  us! 

Yanetia.  Even  that,  I  swear  it  to  you,  I  will  help 
you  to  forget,  by  my  humility,  by  my  devotion  and 
by  my  repentance.  And  no  matter  where  you  go,  I 
will  go  with  you.  Pierre,  think  of  it,  your  children 
still  need  me. 

Etchepare.  My  children!  You  shall  never  see  them 
again,  you  shall  never  speak  to  them  again,  you  shall 
never  kiss  them  again,  you  shall  never  touch  them  again! 

Yanetta  (her  tone  changed).  Oh!  Oh!  That!  Oh! 
no!  Not  that  —  The  children!  Not  that  —  You  are 
wrong!  Oh!  Oh!  no!  Take  everything  away  from 
me,  subject  me  to  every  humiliation  —  force  me  to 
beg  my  bread,  I  don't  care!  Refuse  to  look  at  me, 
refuse  to  speak  to  me  except  to  abuse  me  —  anything 
—  anything  you  wish  —  But  my  children!  —  my  chil- 
dren! —  my  children  —  they  are  mine  —  they  came 
from  my  body,  they  are  still  part  of  me  —  and  always, 
always  they  will  be  part  of  my  very  flesh  and  blood. 

Left  thus,  without  a  home,  without  her  husband, 
without  her  children,  Yanetta  has  a  big  account  to 
settle  with  Mouzon,  who  comes  to  set  her  provisionally 
at  liberty  and,  perhaps,  to  withdraw  his  complaint 
against  her  entirely  if  she  will  apologize  for  her  abusive 
language.  Yanetta  regrets  nothing  —  it  is  she  who  has 
an  account  to  be  settled. 

Yanetta.  Listen  to  me  —  for  the  last  time,  I  ask 
you  what  you  think  you  are  going  to  do  to  bring  com- 
fort to  me,  to  give  me  back  all  that  I  have  lost  through 


64       THE  PLAYS  OF  EUGENE  BRIEUX 

you;  what  you  are  going  to  do  to  lessen  my  sorrows, 
and  how  you  are  going  to  manage  to  give  me  back  my 
children? 

Mouzon.  I  have  nothing  to  say  to  you.  I  owe  you 
nothing. 

Yanetta.  You  owe  me  nothing!  You  owe  me  more 
than  my  life,  more  than  anything.  My  children  —  I 
shall  never  see  them  again.  What  you  have  taken 
from  me  is  the  happiness  of  every  moment,  it  is  their 
kisses  every  night,  it  is  the  pride  I  felt  in  seeing  them 
grow  up  —  Never!  Never  shall  I  hear  them  say 
"Mother!"  It  is  as  if  they  were  dead!  It  is  as  if 
you  had  killed  them.  (She  seizes  the  knife  from  Mou- 
zon's  desk.)  Yes!  That  is  your  work,  yours,  the 
work  of  wicked  judges.  Of  an  innocent  man  you  just 
missed  making  a  convict,  and  of  an  honest  woman, 
of  a  mother,  you  make  a  criminal!  (She  stabs  him;  he 
falls.) 

This  last  act  has  been  severely  criticized.  M.  Faguet 
is  particularly  fastidious;  to  him  it  is  an  unworthy 
melodrama  tacked  on  to  a  fine,  strong  comedy;  for  him 
the  play  ends  with  the  third  act.  The  truth  is  there 
is  no  fault  to  find  with  the  unity  of  interest.  M. 
Gustave  Larroumet  is  nearer  the  mark  when  he  says: 

"In  itself  the  act  is  abundantly  motivated  and  M. 
Brieux  has  only  developed  the  logic  of  his  theme."1 

The  fault  is  in  the  style. 

"If  the  act  drags  it  is  because  it  is  weakly  written, 
lacking  in  conciseness  and  contrast.  Yanetta  talks 
a  great  deal;  she  speaks  only  the  truth,  but  she  does  it 
at  too  great  length  and  in  an  ineffective  way,  I  hope 

1  Le  Temps,  Lundi,  19  Mars,  1900. 


LA  ROBE  ROUGE  65 

that  this  inferior  last  act  will  not  be  prejudicial  to  the 
success  of  a  play  the  first  three  acts  of  which  are  of  the 
first  rank." 

The  hope  of  M.  Larroumet  has  been  amply  gratified; 
the  rhetorical  finale  is  more  acceptable  to  the  public 
than  to  the  man  of  letters  —  today  the  man  of  taste 
disapproves  of  rhetoric  in  the  theatre,  but  the  public 
does  not.  M.  Brieux  does  not  appeal  to  the  man  of 
letters,  who  is  often  unable  to  accept  his  work  in  the 
spirit  in  which  it  is  meant. 

A  more  serious  issue  is  raised  by  the  criticism  of 
Scene  6  of  Act  II  quoted  on  page  55. 

M.  de  Saint  Aubain  accuses  M.  Brieux  of  error: 

"The  preliminary  examination  of  witnesses,  at  the 
investigation  of  the  crime,  is  developed  in  a  masterly 
manner.  The  dramatic  effect  is  powerful.  There  is 
a  single  error,  a  serious  one.  Since  the  reform  of  the 
code  a  suspect  may  not  be  detained  a  week  incom- 
municado for  examination  before  the  investigating 
magistrate,  and  his  lawyer  is  present  at  the  hearing; 
a  headache  on  the  part  of  counsel  for  the  defence  (sic) 
by  no  means  suffices  to  justify  the  text.  The  supreme 
court  would  reverse  a  conviction  on  account  of  Mouzon's 
irregular  procedure."1 

One  has  only  to  read  the  scene  in  question  to  feel 
sure  that  M.  Brieux  knows  all  this  perfectly  well. 

M.  Larroumet  attacks  from  a  different  angle: 

"Unfortunately,  this  fine  scene  is  had  at  the  price 
of  a  flagrant  improbability.  Since  a  recent  enactment, 
the  accused  does  not  appear  alone  before  the  magistrate 

1  La  Quinzaine,  i  Avril,  1900. 


66       THE  PLAYS  OF  EUGENE  BRIEUX 

conducting  the  investigation  of  the  crime.  It  is  pro- 
vided that  a  lawyer  shall  be  present  to  assist  him,  and 
thus  lessen  the  inequality  of  the  struggle  between 
the  prisoner  and  the  magistrate.  M.  Brieux,  in  order 
not  to  lose  the  advantage  of  a  dramatic  situation, 
has  allowed  the  lawyer  to  be  absent  through  chance. 
It  is  a  very  weak  device.  The  Etchepare  case  is  such 
as  to  rouse  keen  interest.  Especially  in  the  country, 
where  such  a  piece  of  luck  would  be  a  rare  occurrence, 
no  lawyer  would  let  slip  such  a  client."1 

The  charge  is  a  grave  one;  it  makes  the  play  depend 
on  a  subtle  device  and  weakens  the  attack  against  justice 
from  beginning  to  end.  One  might  urge  as  an  excuse 
that  M.  Brieux  had  been  at  work  on  the  play  for  a  long 
time,  that  the  loi  recente  was  passed  after  the  play  had 
taken  shape,  that  the  scene  of  the  instruction  was  too 
essential  a  part  of  the  play  to  be  sacrificed,  and  that 
M.  Brieux  makes  use  of  an  expedient  to  get  the  advo- 
cate out  of  the  way.  The  excuse  will  not  hold;  firstly, 
because  M.  Brieux  is  too  honest;  secondly,  because  the 
law  was  voted  December  8,  1897,  and  came  into  force 
December  10  —  too  long  before  the  production  of  the 
play  (March,  1900)  for  this  argument  to  be  valid. 

The  explanation  is,  perhaps,  much  simpler.  The 
law  exists,  but  like  so  many  other  laws,  it  is  not  obeyed. 
The  casual  indifference  of  Maitre  Placat  to  his  duty  is 
just  one  more  thrust  at  the  professional  man  of  law. 
As  an  explanation  it  would  be  bien  faible,  as  a  satirical 
touch  it  is  not  only  quite  acceptable,  but  it  helps  the 


1  Le  Temps,  Lundi,  19  Mars,  1900. 


LA  ROBE  ROUGE        67 

general  effect  of  the  play.  For  the  matter  of  that, 
Etchepare  is  willing  to  be  questioned  alone.2 

La  Robe  Rouge  is  called  neither  comedy  nor  tragedy, 
it  is  called  a  play  —  a  meaningless  term  which  gives 
no  clue  to  the  author's  intention.  Monsieur  Faguet 
regards  it  as  a  comedy,  a  strong  satirical  comedy.  It 
is  so  regarded  by  many  others.  The  story  of  the  con- 
ception of  the  play  will  serve  to  throw  light  on  this 
point,  as  well  as  to  show  the  way  M.  Brieux  works. 

As  a  journalist  he  frequented  the  law  courts  in  Paris. 
He  was  struck  by  the  helplessness  of  the  uneducated 
poor  people  before  all  the  complicated  processes  of 
Justice,  and  the  callous  indifference  of  the  specialist 
who  understood  the  technique  of  the  business  and  was 
so  absorbed  in  it  as  to  become  dehumanized.  The  play, 
says  M.  Brieux,  might  well  bear,  for  second  title,  La 
Deformation  Professionelle.  The  execution  of  justice 
is  further  complicated  by  the  money  question,  which 
lies  behind  all  our  social  crimes.  Even  the  honest 
Vagret  is  forced  out  of  his  normal  line  of  conduct, 
while  Mouzon,  though  not  open  to  corruption,  is  an 
arriviste  of  the  first  order.  M.  Brieux  is  moved  to 
pity  at  the  helplessness  of  the  poor,  but  to  make  the 
struggle  keener  and  the  cruelty  more  impressive  he 
needs  a  better  antagonist  than  the  degraded  pauper 
of  Paris.  He  must  have  an  uneducated  man  —  not  a 
demoralized  man  —  a  peasant,  a  peasant  full  of  native 

1  "Placat.  He  is  willing  to  be  examined  without  me." 
Article  9  of  the  law  in  question  reads:  "The  accused,  whether  con- 
fined or  free  on  bail,  shall  not  be  examined  or  arraigned,  unless  he 
shall  expressly  waive  the  right,  except  in  the  presence  of  his  counsel 
or  upon  due  notice  to  such  counsel."  (Vide  Recueils  des  Lois  De- 
crtts  Circulates,  etc.,  5  FSvrier,  1911,  p.  42.  Muzard  et  Ebin, 
Paris.) 


68       THE  PLAYS  OF  EUGENE  BRIEUX 

pride.  "  I  needed  a  man  suffering  a  wrong  —  a  country- 
man —  a  man  of  worth,  uncorrupted  despite  his  lack 
of  education  —  I  chose  the  Basque."  So  down  he 
goes  to  the  Basses  Pyrenees,  mixes  with  the  people, 
learns  a  bit  of  their  language,  and  finally  situates  his 
play.  He  was  already  conversant  with  the  thousand 
and  one  details  of  judicial  procedure.  It  remained  for 
him  to  pit  the  peasant  against  the  professional.  The 
tone  of  the  play  is  essentially  serious,  the  last  act  is  an 
important  part  of  the  original  intention  of  the  author; 
the  amusing  bits  of  irony  are  added,  they  do  not  inter- 
fere with  the  grimness  of  the  struggle,  rather  do  they 
heighten  the  effect  of  it;  the  moral  of  the  struggle  is 
that  the  specialist  must  obey  human  laws  —  that  there 
are  general  considerations  of  higher  import  than  his 
special  considerations.  It  is  the  specialist  who  is  killed 
by  a  human  being  at  bay.  This  is  different  from  the 
Justice  of  Mr.  Galsworthy,  which  is  called  a  tragedy, 
and  where  the  hero  is  the  victim  of  a  grim  monster 
which  no  one  can  control.  "The  chariot  wheels  of 
Justice"  do  not  come  into  play  in  La  Robe  Rouge.  An 
appeal  is  made  to  the  higher  understanding  of  magis- 
trates, to  their  deepest  human  feelings,  to  get  rid  of 
the  vice  of  professionalism. 

"At  the  Palais  de  Justice  they  remember  last  year 
seeing  the  author  of  'The  Red  Robe'  sauntering,  ob- 
servantly idle,  about  the  great  halls  outside  the  court 
rooms.  A  court  house  should  be  suspicious  of  the 
visits  of  a  writer.  M.  Brieux  paced  the  corridors, 
opened  the  door  of  a  court  room  here  and  there,  ap- 
proached to  the  bar-enclosure,  fixed  in  his  mind's  eye 
the  judicial  stage  setting,  chatted  with  lawyers,  ex- 


LA  ROBE  ROUGE  69 

changed  greetings  with  the  prosecuting  attorneys, 
gazed  with  a  smile  of  captivated  interest  on  Mme. 
Themis,  seated,  or  standing,  in  all  the  attitudes  and 
all  the  poses  enjoined  by  the  divers  awful  duties  of  her 
mission.  He  would  take  out  a  pencil,  a  piece  of  paper, 
and  he  would  jot  down  notes.  From  the  notes  —  it 
should  have  been  foreseen  —  was  born  a  play  whose 
dialogue  —  this,  too,  should  have  been  foreseen  — 
is  not  so  amiable  as  reminiscences  of  days  gone  by. 
The  amenities  of  the  visitor  give  place  to  the  acerbities 
of  the  author.  For  the  author  is  no  victim  of  illusions 
and  the  drama  of  life  rouses  his  generous  ire.  His 
irony  is  not  of  the  gentle  sort;  it  is  biting;  and  always 
in  his  warmth  of  feeling  is  felt  the  thrill  of  wrath.  He 
is  not  amused  with  life,  and  he  sees  reasons  to  shudder." 

Monsieur  de  Saint  Aubain  has  not  penetrated  to  the 
depths  of  the  author's  intention,  but  his  opinion  is 
worth  having.  Here  is  another  passage  from  the  same 
article :  — 

"How  many  striking  points,  how  many  relentless 
analyses  1  This  witness  for  the  defence  who,  if  listened 
to,  would  clear  up  matters  with  a  word,  but,  discon- 
certed, is  completely  stupefied  by  the  investigating 
magistrate,  because  instead  of  a  savior,  he  is  regarded 
only  as  a  bore;  the  innocent  prisoner  who  perjures 
himself  in  the  hope  of  escaping  from  his  torture,  and 
by  his  clumsiness  brings  on  himself  false  appearances 
of  guilt  —  this  woman  who  is  tripped  up  by  her  court 
record  —  alarm  the  philosopher.  I  commend  such 
revelations  to  those  on  whom  depend  our  honor  and 
our  interests.  The  heavy  responsibilities  of  their  task 
are  never  too  much  taken  to  heart.  Whenever  he  puts 


7o       THE  PLAYS  OF  EUGENE  BRIEUX 

on  his  robe,  whether  to  conduct  the  investigation  of 
crime,  to  prosecute,  or  to  judge,  the  magistrate  should 
not  fail  to  recall  the  words  of  Lamennais,  'When 
I  remember  that  there  are  men  who  dare  to  judge 
other  men,  I  am  appalled,  and  I  shudder.'"1 


1  La  Quinzaine,  i  Avril,  1900. 


Chapter  V 
Plays  from  1901-1909 

LES  REMPLACANTES.  Play  in  three  acts.  First 
produced  at  the  Thedtre  Antoine,  February  15, 
1901.  Played  116  times  in  1901,  ten  times  in  1902, 
five  times  in  1903,  sixteen  times  in  1904. 

The  first  act  takes  place  at  a  small  village  from  which 
Paris  draws  its  supply  of  wet-nurses.  For  generations 
the  mothers  —  fille s  m&res  and  married  women  —  have 
been  lured  away  to  perform  that  office  which  the 
fashionable  Parisienne  has  too  little  leisure  and  too 
much  vanity  to  perform.  The  result  of  such  a  system 
is  bad  for  the  Parisienne,  demoralizing  to  the  peasant, 
and  often  disastrous  to  the  child. 

The  system  is  attacked  from  all  three  points  of  view, 
but  especially  from  that  of  the  peasant.  The  central 
figure  of  the  play  is  Lazarette  Planchot,  a  natural, 
good-hearted  woman,  who  has  no  inclination  to  leave 
her  baby  or  her  husband.  But  the  neighbors  jeer 
at  her  for  a  fool,  her  father-in-law  insists,  and  even 
her  husband,  greedy  for  gain  like  the  average  peasant, 
urges  her.  She  is  finally  persuaded  to  accept  a  place  in 
a  wealthy  family.  The  first  act  is  full  of  those  signifi- 
cant details  of  humble  life  which  M.  Brieux  knows  so 
well  and  renders  so  truly. 

The  second  ^ct  takes  place  in  the  house  of  the  Deni- 


72       THE  PLAYS  OF  EUGENE  BRIEUX 

sart.  Lazarette  is  in  very  good  hands,  well  cared  for, 
not  to  say  spoilt.  Nothing  must  happen  to  the  nurse 
lest  le  petit  Guy  should  suffer  in  the  end.  Having  thus 
transferred  her  natural  office  to  a  rempla$ante,  the 
elegant  Madame  Denisart  is  able  to  return  to  the 
mundanities  of  her  salon,  to  retain  the  affections  of 
her  husband,  and  even  to  find  time  to  caress  her  off- 
spring,—  a  very  satisfactory  arrangement.  But  what 
about  the  child,  the  husband,  and  the  home  of  Laza- 
rette? The  Denisart  household  is  suddenly  upset 
by  the  arrival  of  a  telegram  for  Lazarette  —  "The 
baby  boy  is  not  well."  A  dilemma !  —  What  is  to  be 
done?  Withhold  the  telegram?  —  it  is  the  simplest 
solution;  besides,  it  is  the  "day"  of  Madame  Denisart, 
nothing  must  be  allowed  to  interfere  with  her  "receiv- 
ing." Visitors  arrive,  conversation  ensues,  fatuous, 
stupid,  until  Doctor  Richon,  a  m$decin  de  campagne, 
replying  to  the  questions  of  the  ladies,  expounds  the 
thesis  of  the  author:  — 

Richon.  ...  If  you  could  nurse  your  baby,  and  you 
would  not,  you  have  caused  much  harm.  To  your- 
selves, first  ...  by  exposing  yourselves  to  all  the 
illnesses  which  are  the  possible  consequence  of  your 
abstaining.  .  .  .  You  make  your  baby  suck  the  milk 
of  a  woman  .  .  .  whose  glass  you  would  not  wish  to 
drink  from.  ...  If  you  realized  that  in  giving  your 
baby  to  a  wet-nurse  you  were  increasing  the  chances 
of  seeing  him  die  you  would  nurse  him  yourself.  .  .  . 

Mme.  Denisart.  We  are  afraid  that  while  nursing 
our  babies  we  shall  lose  our  husbands. 

Richon.  Exactly.  You  fear  for  your  home  and  you 
engage  a  wet-nurse.  But  the  nurse  is  married.  And 


PLAYS  FROM  1901-1909  73 

her  husband  is  exposed  to  the  same  temptations  which 
you  fear  for  your  own.  So,  to  spare  yourself  a  danger, 
you  expose  another  woman  to  the  same  danger.  Of 
course,  I  understand  that  she  is  a  poor  country  woman. 
But  have  you  the  right  to  decide  that  your  happiness 
deserves  to  be  secured  at  the  cost  of  hers?  Have  you 
the  right  to  decide  that  to  save  the  life  of  your  baby 
justifies  the  possible  sacrifice  of  her  baby's  life?  .  .  . 
You  have  instilled  into  the  hearts  of  our  village  women 
such  a  desire  to  earn  money  in  this  way  that  they 
abandon  their  little  ones  eagerly.  Yet  they  know 
that  these  little  ones  are  too  often  doomed  to  die.  .  .  . 
I  know  about  things  of  which  you  are  ignorant,  I 
assure  you.  If  I  appear  zealous  it  is  because  for  forty 
years  I  have  witnessed  the  demoralization  of  our 
country  women  —  a  demoralization  caused  by  the 
separation  of  the  wife  and  husband  —  it  is  because 
for  forty  years  I  have  witnessed  the  deaths  of  innocent 
little  babies  who  would  have  lived  if  their  mothers 
had  not  been  taken  from  them,  and  whose  deaths  were 
the  price  paid  for  your  happiness  and  ease.  The 
mortality  of  infants  suckled  by  hired  nurses  is  frightful; 
three  times  greater  than  ordinary  mortality.  .  .  . 
Let  me  tell  you  what  happens.  There  in  the  country, 
as  soon  as  a  woman  is  through  her  confinement,  she 
has  but  one  thought  —  to  become  a  wet-nurse.  She 
wants  to  become  one  as  soon  as  possible  because  in 
Paris  the  nurses  who  have  most  recently  been  confined 
are  the  most  sought  after.  The  family  wishing  to 
employ,  in  order  to  be  assured  of  the  mother's  health, 
wish  to  see  her  baby.  So  this  woman  doesn't  delay. 
In  any  sort  of  weather  —  in  midsummer,  in  midwinter, 


74       THE  PLAYS  OF  EUGENE  BRIEUX 

she  puts  the  poor  little  thing  into  a  third  class  car, 
she  is  off  for  Paris  with  her  pitiable,  her  sad  little 
bundle.  She  arrives  at  the  wet-nurse  employment 
office,  and  she  is  obliged  to  wait.  She  must  wait 
until  one  of  you  has  need  of  her.  Sometimes  this 
waiting  lasts  a  fortnightl  At  the  wet-nurse  bureau 
this  woman  can  claim  only  a  bed.  She  must  find  her 
own  food.  She  is  poor.  You  can  imagine  the  kind  of 
care  the  baby  receives.  At  last  she  obtains  a  place. 
Then  an  employee  of  the  bureau,  male  or  female,  another 
wet-nurse,  or  a  neighbor,  takes  the  poor  baby  back, 
in  the  same  summer  heat,  or  the  same  winter  cold,  in 
the  same  third  class  car.  Usually  it  is  taken  back  to 
the  grandparents,  who  are  good  souls,  no  doubt,  but 
ignorant,  who,  when  the  baby  asks  for  its  mother's 
breast,  put  into  its  mouth  the  rubber  nipple  of  a  dirty 
nursing  bottle.  (To  the  audience)  So  you  can  readily 
understand  that  these  poor  little  ones  diel  You  know 
it  well!  —  And  you  know  with  what  good  reason  I 
appeal  for  them  to  your  sense  of  justice  and  your  pity. 

Mme.  Denis  art.     It  is  horrible  1 

Mme.  d'Afeze.  But  there  ought  to  be  laws  to  prevent 
it! 

Richon.  There  is  one,  Madame.  There  is  the 
Roussel  law,  an  admirable  one,  which  provides  that  a 
mother  who  would  engage  herself  as  wet-nurse  must 
have  suckled  her  own  child  for  seven  months.  Well, 
the  law  is  not  enforced!  Not  only  that  —  it  is  the 
very  ones  who  are  charged  with  enforcing  the  law  that 
set  it  aside.  You  do  not  believe  that?  I  tell  you  this: 
the  prefect  of  police  is  the  author  of  a  letter,  an  official 
communication,  in  which  he  declines  to  enforce  this 


PLAYS  FROM  1901-1909  75 

law  because  —  these  are  his  exact  words — "because 
the  consequence  of  it  would  be  to  cause  a  profound  dis- 
turbance in  the  lives  of  the  people  of  Paris!"  .  .  .  We 
should  have  the  courage  to  press  the  matter  to  the 
logical  conclusion.  We  should  consider  the  mother's 
duty  to  nurse  her  own  child  the  military  service  of 
women.  Before  1870  in  France,  the  rich  man  had  the 
right  to  dodge  the  tribute  of  blood,  and  to  buy  himself 
a  man,  as  it  was  then  said.  There  are  now  no  substi- 
tute soldiers;  there  should  no  longer  be  substitute 
mothers. 

In  the  third  act  Lazarette,  having  learnt  the  contents 
of  the  telegram,  filled  with  anxiety,  returns  home  to 
find  her  baby  nearly  dead  after  convulsions  and  her 
husband  spending  her  earnings  at  the  cabaret  and 
carrying  on  with  another  woman.  She  refuses  to 
return  to  the  Denisart,  she  reclaims  her  man  and 
settles  down  to  nurse  her  child  back  to  life. 

The  rhetoric  in  this  play  is  more  marked  than  in 
La  Robe  Rouge.  The  long  quotation  from  the  second 
act  shows  to  what  extent  M.  Brieux  dares  to  defy  all 
the  theatrical  canons,  introducing  in  the  person  of 
Richon  no  mere  porte-parole  or  raisonneur  such  as 
Dumas  and  Moltere  were  wont  to  use,  but  a  preacher 
who  preaches  a  sermon  —  preaches  not  only  to  the 
characters  in  the  play  but  to  the  audience.  The  stage 
direction  "to  the  audience"1  cannot  be  ignored.  M. 
Brieux  is  making  use  of  the  stage  for  purposes  other 
than  dramatic.  The  extraordinary  thing  is,  not  that 
he  should  have  done  it,  but  that  he  should  have  suc- 
ceeded in  doing  it  without  killing  his  play,  The 

»Vide  p.  74. 


76       THE  PLAYS  OF  EUGENE  BRIEUX 

democratic  audience  in  a  theatre  likes  a  certain  amount 
of  rhetoric.  In  the  next  play,  Les  Avaries,  M.  Brieux 
goes  even  further,  ignores  the  dramatic  needs  and  con- 
tents himself  with  didactic  dialogue.  The  dramatic 
interest  in  Les  Rempla$antes  is  strong  enough  to  carry 
the  rhetoric.  It  is  the  most  successful  of  all  the  plays 
of  M.  Brieux,  judged  by  the  standard  of  the  number 
of  performances;  it  is  also  the  most  characteristic, 
filled  with  much  of  his  essential  virtue  and  by  no  means 
free  from  his  besetting  faults. 

LES  AvARiEs1.  Play  in  three  acts.  Rehearsed  at 
the  Th£dtre  Antoine  in  November,  1901,  but  prohibited 
by  the  censor.  Played  at  Liege  and  Brussels  in  1902, 
but  not  produced  in  Paris  till  1905,  when  it  was  put  on 
at  the  Thedtre  Antoine  on  February  23.  Played  fifty- 
six  times  in  1905,  once  in  1906,  once  in  1907,  and  twice 
at  the  Od£o n  in  1908. 

On  November  I,  1901,  after  the  play  had  been 
prohibited,  M.  Brieux  read  the  work  to  a  specially 
invited  audience  (consisting  largely  of  officials  and 
doctors);  it  was  received  with  enthusiasm. 

Before  the  curtain  rose  on  the  first  production  of  the 
play  in  Paris  in  1905,  M.  Antoine  made  the  following 
announcement:  "This  play  has  for  its  object  the  study 
of  syphilis  in  its  bearing  on  marriage.  It  contains 
no  single  cause  for  scandal,  no  obscene  word.  Is  it 
really  necessary  that  women  should  be  senseless  and 
ignorant  that  they  may  be  virtuous?" 

The  first  act  takes  place  in  the  consulting-room  of  a 
specialist,  and  consists  of  one  long  scene  between  the 
doctor  and  the  "  avarti"  who  wishes  to  be  cured  immedi- 

» Played  in  America  under  title  of  "Damaged  Goods". 


PLAYS  FROM  1901-1909  77 

ately  because  he  is  about  to  get  married.  The  doctor 
declares  that  the  marriage  must  be  put  off  for  three  or 
four  years,  that  it  would  be  a  crime  for  him  to  marry 
until  he  is  cured  —  a  crime  against  his  wife  and  children. 
Naturally  he  will  not  commit  such  a  crime.  But  the 
second  act  shows  that  he  has  committed  the  crime  from 
lack  of  courage  to  make  the  explanations  necessary  for 
a  postponement  of  the  marriage.  Married  and  happy 
in  his  home,  he  is  astonished,  actually  astonished,  to 
find  the  doctor's  predictions  come  true.  The  child  is 
tainted  and  the  specialist  insists  that  it  be  taken  from 
the  nurse  lest  she  also  be  infected.  The  nurse  learns 
the  truth  and  declares  in  the  presence  of  the  mother 
that  she  will  not  suckle  a  child  that  is  "pourri"  The 
wife,  thus  acquainted  with  her  husband's  secret,  is  horri- 
fied and  flies  to  her  father,  who  insists  on  a  separation. 

In  the  third  act,  which  takes  place  in  the  office  of 
the  physician-in-chief,  at  the  hospital,  the  specialist 
explains  to  her  father  that  there  is  no  reason  for  a 
separation,  that  he  must  persuade  the  wife  to  return 
to  her  husband. 

"You  can  tell  her  that  a  separation  would  be  a 
calamity  for  all;  that  her  husband  is  the  only  one  whose 
devotion  could  be  great  and  constant  enough  to  help 
her  to  save  her  baby.  You  can  tell  her  that  out  of  the 
ruins  of  her  first  happiness  she  can  make  for  herself 
another  that  any  one  might  envy.  You  will  add  to  this 
all  that  your  own  good  heart  will  inspire  you  to  say, 
and  we  will  make  sure  that  when  they  are  reunited  their 
next  child  shall  be  healthy  and  vigorous." 

An  unexpected  and  optimistic  solution.  Since  the 
father-in-law  is  a  deputy,  the  doctor  takes  advantage 


78       THE  PLAYS  OF  EUGENE  BRIEUX 

of  the  opportunity  to  acquaint  him  with  the  facts  and 
to  impress  upon  him  the  urgent  need  for  the  matter 
of  public  health  to  be  taken  up  by  the  Chamber. 

The  Doctor.  Ah,  there  it  isl  You  didn't  know  about 
it!  You  are  a  father,  and  you  didn't  know  about  it  I 
You  are  a  Deputy,  you  took  upon  yourself  the  duty 
and  the  honor  of  making  the  laws,  and  you  did  not  know 
about  itl  You  know  nothing  about  syphilis,  just  as 
you  probably  know  nothing  about  alcoholism  and 
tuberculosis?  .  .  .  But  why  do  you  not  concern  your- 
selves with  syphilis?  Some  day  when  you  have  been 
creating  offices  of  State  for  all  sorts  of  things,  why  do 
you  not  create  an  office  of  State  which  shall  protect 
the  public  health? 

The  Father-in-Law.  My  dear  doctor,  you  are  falling 
into  the  common  mistake  of  the  French,  which  is  to 
attribute  every  ill  to  the  government.  In  such  cases 
as  this  it  is  for  you  men  of  science  to  show  us  the  way, 
since  these  are  matters  which  you  understand  and  we 
do  not.  You  must  begin  by  pointing  out  such  measures 
as  you  believe  necessary 

The  Doctor.  Yes,  yes,  all  very  fine.  But  it  is  now 
nearly  eighteen  years  since  a  scheme  of  that  sort, 
worked  out  and  unanimously  approved  by  the  Academy 
of  Medicine,  was  submitted  to  the  proper  authorities. 
It  has  never  been  heard  of  since. 

The  Father-in-Law.  Then  you  think  that  measures 
really  can  be 

The  Doctor.  You  shall  judge  for  yourself  what 
measures  should  be  taken.  ...  I  am  going  to  show 
you  proof  that  our  greatest  enemy  is  ignorance  —  you 
shall  see  for  yourself.  .  .  .  (He  goes  to  the  door.)  It 


PLAYS  FROM  1901-1909  79 

incenses  me.  What  can  we  do?  We  cannot  go  about 
searching  for  the  sick.  (To  a  woman  outside  the  door) 
Gome  in,  please.  (To  the  father-in-law)  Here  is  a 
case  for  example.  This  woman  is  very  seriously 
affected.  I  have  told  her  so,  and  I  have  told  her  to 
come  every  week  —  (to  the  woman)  have  I  not? 

The  Working  Woman.    Yes,  Monsieur. 

The  Doctor.     And  how  long  is  it  since  you  came  last? 

The   Working   Woman.    Three  months  .  .  .  etc. 

And  thus,  as  in  a  later  play  —  Materniti  —  we  are 
introduced  to  a  new  set  of  characters,  a  working  woman, 
a  father,  and  daughter;  the  limits  of  the  dramatic 
frame  are  ignored,  the  subject  reaches  out  of  the  play, 
unending,  stretching  out  into  the  world  beyond. 

The  Doctor.  You  can  see,  Monsieur,  that  the  only 
real  remedy  will  be  a  change  in  the  customary  attitude. 
We  must  cease  to  regard  syphilis  as  if  it  were  a  mysteri- 
ous evil  whose  name  we  should  not  even  mention 

The  author's  aim  is  expressed  in  the  dedication  to 
Monsieur  le  Professeur  A.  Fourniert  Membre  de 
FAcademie  de  Medecine. 

"Monsieur,  it  is  my  desire  to  dedicate  this  play 
to  you,  since  nearly  all  the  scientific  ideas  which  I 
have  sought  to  bring  to  the  lay  understanding  by  means 
of  it  are  your  own.  I  believe,  with  you,  that  syphilis 
will  lose  some  of  its  terrors  when  people  shall  dare  to 
speak  frankly  of  it  as  an  evil  which  is  neither  neces- 
sarily a  disgrace  nor  a  punishment,  and  when  those 
who  are  attacked  by  it,  realizing  what  sorrows  they 
might  spread,  shall  better  understand  their  duty  to 
others  and  to  themselves." 

M.  Brieux  makes  use  of  the  stage  to  popularize  the 


8o       THE  PLAYS  OF  EUGENE  BRIEUX 

ideas  of  a  savant,  to  wage  war  on  an  ignorant  and 
lethargic  public  opinion. 

Les  Avaries  is  not  a  good  play.  Whether  the  subject 
be  suitable  or  not,  the  author  has  not  succeeded  in 
making  it  dramatic,  perhaps  because  such  a  theme 
had  to  be  so  carefully  handled  that  it  was  impossible 
for  him  to  let  himself  go.  The  characters  do  not 
live,  they  speak  only  from  the  dictation  of  a  didactic 
author.  In  spite  of  this  the  play  is  interesting  to  an 
audience  and  has  achieved  great  notoriety;  it  has  added 
a  new  word  to  current  speech;  it  has  effaced  the  author 
of  Blanchette,  who  is  now  popularly  known  as  the 
author  of  Les  Avaries. 

LA  PETITE  AMIE.  Play  in  three  acts.  First  pro- 
duced at  the  Comedie  Fran$aisey  May  3,  1902,  and 
played  twenty-two  times. 

The  first  act  (and,  indeed,  the  greater  part  of  the 
play)  takes  place  in  the  wholesale  dressmakers'  shop 
of  M.  Logerais,  in  the  quartier  du  Temple;  it  depicts 
to  the  life  the  daily  existence  of  the  poor  working 
modiste.  The  making  and  packing  of  hats,  the  relations 
between  patron  and  employees,  the  'discreet  attitude 
of  Madame  Logerais  —  in  a  few  rapid  telling  strokes 
the  world  ruled  by  Logerais  is  set  before  us,  and  the 
character  of  its  tyrant,  cruel,  vain,  disloyal  —  and 
successful.  Apart  from  his  business  and  his  pleasure, 
the  one  thing  that  interests  him  is  the  marriage  of  his 
son  Andre*,  on  whose  legal  education  it  has  been  his 
pride  to  spend  money. 

It  has  been  his  pride  to  arrange  a  match  for  Andr£,  a 
match  with  Money,  which  shall  justify  the  expensive 
education  and  establish  the  son  of  a  tradesman  as  a 


PLAYS  FROM  1901-1909  81 

* 

Gentleman.  The  inclinations  of  Andre*  do  not  fit  in 
with  the  nicely  calculated  plans  of  his  lord  and  father. 
He  has  an  inclination  for  one  of  the  girls  in  the  shop  — 
Marguerite,  simple  and  poor,  but  honest  —  the  only 
one  of  the  assistants  who  has  not  fallen  before  the  fas- 
cinations of  pere  Logerais.  The  struggle  that  ensues 
between  father  and  son,  between  natural  inclination 
and  parental  tyranny,  is  the  theme  of  the  play.  Andre 
cannot  marry  without  his  father's  consent  until  he 
is  twenty-five  years  old;  he  is  dependent  on  his  father's 
bounty  —  consent  and  bounty  are  withheld.  Mar- 
guerite is  dismissed.  Andre  does  his  best  to  support 
himself  and  Marguerite,  but  fails  signally.  After  a 
rhetorical  outburst  against  Society  by  Andr6,  they 
throw  themselves  into  the  river  to  end  their  misery 
before  their  child  is  born. 

The  play  shows  to  what  lengths  M.  Brieux  is  willing 
to  go  in  his  enthusiasm  for  the  child.  In  his  hatred  of 
paternal  tyranny  he  accepts  all  the  weakness  and 
extravagance  of  the  boy.  It  is  justifiable  to  protest 
vigorously  against  paternal  tyranny  and  the  dot 
because  they  render  natural  marriage  impossible  and 
pervert  the  family  life  from  its  very  beginning,  but  La 
Petite  Amie  is  a  less  effective  protest  than  Les  Trois 
Filles  de  Monsieur  Dupont,  with  which  it  has  a  good  deal 
in  common. 

MATERNITE.  Play  in  three  acts.  First  produced 
December  9,  1903,  at  the  Thedtre  Antoine;  played 
twenty-eight  times  in  1903,  forty-nine  times  in  1904, 
three  times  in  1905. 

The  play  opens  in  the  house  of  a  Sous-prefet  in  the 
provinces,  Julien  Brignac.  The  atmosphere  of  official 


82       THE  PLAYS  OF  EUGENE  BRIEUX 

provincial   life   is   painted   to   show   how  the  official 
political  representative  compromises  to  keep  up  ap- 
pearances.   This  may  be  taken  as  symbolical  of  the 
falsification  of  political  opinions  by  social  hypocrisy. 
The  play   gradually   concentrates   on   one   particular 
problem  —  the    problem    of    population.     M.    Brieux 
admits  as  a  truth  that  quality  is  to  be  preferred  to 
quantity,  therefore  it  behooves  us  to  admit  that  it  would 
be  a  good  thing  if  population  could  be  controlled;  that 
prolific  nature  is  cruel;  that  it  would  be  an  advance 
in  civilization  if  one  had  only  the  children  one  wants. 
The  problem  is  brought  painfully  home  to  the  Sous- 
prtftt.    Annette,  the  young  sister  of  his  wife,  is  as 
good   as   affianced   to  Jacques   Bernin;   the   marriage 
is  taken  for  granted.    To  her  horror  she  hears  that 
his    father    has    arranged    another    match.     Jacques 
had  seduced  her,  but  he  is  too  weak  to  oppose  his 
father,  and  Annette  is  left  to  her  fate.     When  the  Sous- 
prtfet  hears  of  her  condition  he  insists  on  her  leaving 
his  house  before  the  secret  is  out,  in  order  to  save  his 
reputation.    His  wife,  Lucie,  leaves  with  her  sister. 
They  go  to  Paris,  where  Annette  escapes  from  her 
self-sacrificing    sister   and   goes    to    a    midwife.    The 
operation  proves  fatal.     In  the  last  act  we  are  intro- 
duced to  an  entirely  new  set  of  characters  at  the  trial 
of  the  midwife,  Madame  Thomas.     She  is  not  the 
only  prisoner;  a  woman  teacher,  Tupin,  a  journeyman 
electrician,   Madame  Tupin,    all   are   tried   for   child 
murder.    The  magistrate  upholds  the  law;  the  evidence 
in  the  various  cases  is  all  in  protest  against  the  law, 
couched  in  varying  degrees  of  intensity,  until  at  last 
the  play  ends  in  a  chaos  of  anarchistic  outbursts.    The 


PLAYS  FROM  1901-1909  83 

finale  is  vague  and  rhapsodic,  not  to  say  uproarious. 
The  effect  is  obscure,  the  end  is  not  a  conclusion,  the 
problem  is  not  solved. 

The  truth  is  that  M.  Brieux  does  not  know  his  own 
mind.  He  would  like  to  prevent  the  birth  of  undesired 
children,  but  he  is  not  so  pitiless  as  to  plead  for  the 
legalization  of  abortion.  M.  Brieux  is  not  an  advanced 
thinker;  he  cannot  be  logical  at  the  expense  of  feeling. 
In  following  an  advanced  idea  he  has  got  out  of  his 
depth;  he  is  more  on  his  own  ground  when  he  reacts 
from  an  advanced  idea  towards  a  common  point  of 
departure.  Maternite  and  Les  Avaries  are  two  out  of 
the  three  plays  selected  by  Mr.  Bernard  Shaw  to  intro- 
duce M.  Brieux  to  the  English  public.  Maternite  is 
even  given  in  two  versions.  The  second  version  of 
Maternite  is  more  closely  woven.  The  chief  change  is 
in  the  character  of  Brignac ,  who  is  an  "alcoolique" — 
not  an  habitual  drunkard,  but  sufficiently  poisoned  for 
his  children  to  be  nervous  wrecks.  This  the  specialist 
makes  clear  to  Madame  Brignac.  For  preventing  the 
birth  of  another  child  doomed  to  a  life  of  suffering 
Madame  Brignac  is  held  as  a  criminal  and  comes  up 
for  trial  in  the  last  act. 

LA  DESERTEUSE.  Play  in  four  acts,  in  collaboration 
with  Jean  Sigaux.  First  produced  October  15,  1904, 
at  the  Odeon,  and  played  forty-one  times. 

La  Deserteuse  may  be  lightly  passed  over;  it  is  not 
especially  interesting  and  it  is  a  variation  on  the  same 
theme  as  Le  Berceau,  namely,  the  cruel  position  of  the 
child  of  parents  who  have  separated,  a  subject  taken 
up  again  to  some  extent  in  Suzette.  Madame  For  jot  is 
the  "deserteuse";  she  finds  her  husband  a  bore  and 


84       THE  PLAYS  OF  EUGENE  BRIEUX 

runs  off  with  a  musician,  leaving  her  daughter  Pascaline 
behind.  Forjot,  in  order  to  provide  a  mother  for  his 
daughter,  marries  her  governess,  Helene,  who  fills  the 
office  with  more  than  exemplary  devotion.  The 
daughter  ungratefully  prefers  her  mother  when  the 
" deserteuse"  returns  years  later  to  reclaim  her  natural 
place  in  her  daughter's  affections.  The  fight  between 
the  two  mothers  is  ended  by  the  intervention  of  Forjot, 
who  explains  that  He'le'ne  has  carefully  trained  Pascaline 
to  revere  her  mother's  memory  and  has  hidden  the 
truth.  Pascaline  returns  to  the  paternal  roof. 

L' ARMATURE.  Play  in  five  acts,  after  the  novel  by 
Paul  Hervieu.  First  produced  April  19,  1905,  at  the 
Vaudeville,  and  played  nineteen  times. 

The  dramatization  is  not  so  good  as  the  novel.  The 
great  scene  of  the  discovery  by  Exireuil  of  his  wife's 
infidelity  is  effective,  but  the  early  part  of  the  play  is 
too  much  taken  up  with  minor  characters.  Since  it  is 
only  an  adaptation  it  need  not  be  discussed  here. 

LES  HANNETONS.  Comedy  in  three  acts.  First 
produced  February  3,  1906,  at  the  Renaissance,  and 
played  thirty-eight  times. 

Pierre  Cotrel,  who  teaches  natural  history  at  a  school 
in  Paris,  having  no  taste  for  the  monotony  and  petty 
tyrannies  of  married  life,  lives  with  Charlotte,  a  simple 
work-girl,  twenty  years  younger  than  himself.  They 
do  not  get  on  very  well,  in  spite  of  the  freedom  of  their 
union.  Pierre  cannot  share  his  life  with  Charlotte,  she 
has  no  education.  Charlotte  is  very  whimsical,  and 
irritating  beyond  human  endurance;  they  bicker  over 
this,  they  squabble  over  that.  To  make  matters  worse 
Pierre  learns  that  she  is  not  even  faithful  to  him. 


PLAYS  FROM  1901-1909  85 

Brochot,  an  old  school  friend  of  Pierre,  turns  up  and 
proves  irresistible  to  Charlotte;  he  imitates  a  train  so 
amusingly  she  can  refuse  him  nothing.  Pierre  is 
furious.  It  is  no  mere  squabble  this  time.  Charlotte 
replies  with  a  smack,  but  that  does  not  pacify  Pierre, 
so  she  threatens  to  leave.  Still  he  does  not  soften, 
therefore  Charlotte  packs  her  things  and  has  them  put 
on  a  cab.  Pierre  remains  inexorable.  Charlotte 
departs,  eager  to  be  recalled,  but  she  has  gone  too  far; 
she  is  allowed  to  leave.  Pierre  is  jubilant,  once  more 
he  is  free  to  do  what  he  likes ;  he  has  saved  two  hundred 
francs,  he  will  go  to  Brittany,  he  has  long  wanted  to 
go  to  Brittany.  But  —  Charlotte?  Charlotte  has 
written,  but  her  letters  have  not  even  been  opened; 
therefore  Charlotte  has  officially  informed  all  her  friends 
that  at  a  certain  hour  on  a  certain  day  she  will  put  an 
end  to  her  miserable  existence  by  jumping  into  the 
Seine  from  the  Pont  Neuf.  Pierre  is  adamant  even 
to  that.  Owing  to  some  mistake  about  the  appointed 
day  and  hour  Charlotte  was  not  prevented  from  jump- 
ing into  the  river.  She  is  saved,  of  course,  and  she 
is  brought  back  by  the  sauveUur  to  the  apartement  of 
Pierre  (of  course,  what  other  address  could  she  give?) 
and  the  sauveUur  of  course  receives  a  reward  —  200 
francs  exactly.  Good-bye  to  Brittany,  good-bye  to 
freedom,  once  more  the  hannetons  are  attached  —  no 
remedy,  not  even  divorce. 

Lfs  Hannetons  stands  apart  from  the  rest  of  the  work 
of  M.  Brieux,  which  is  serious  and  grave.  Les  Hanne- 
tons is  low  comedy  bordering  on  farce,  lightened  by 
subtle  irony,  a  surprising  thing  for  M.  Brieux  to  have 
produced,  just  the  one  thing  one  would  have  argued 


86       THE  PLAYS  OF  EUGENE  BRIEUX 

he  was  incapable  of  doing,  had  he  not  done  it;  a  most 
amusing,  mirth-provoking  play,  well  constructed,  rapid 
and  light  in  movement,  racy  dialogue,  pointed  satire. 
But  even  here  at  his  most  " boulevardier"  M.  Brieux 
implies  a  social  question.  From  the  social  point  of 
view  this  sort  of  union  is  an  evil;  for  once  M.  Brieux 
laughs  at  an  evil,  and  he  laughs  so  heartily  that  one 
can  only  regret  that  he  does  not  laugh  oftener.  The 
"manage"  here  satirized  is  supposed  to  be  essentially 
Parisian;  much  to  the  author's  surprise  the  piece  has 
proved  successful  in  other  countries,  not  excepting 
England  and  America. 

LA  FRANQAISE.  Comedy  in  three  acts.  First  pro- 
duced April  1 8,  1907,  at  the  Odeon,  and  played  forty- 
nine  times. 

The  play  begins  at  Trouville  at  the  home  of  Pierre 
Gontier,  a  manufacturer.  We  have  the  picture  of  a 
real  French  home  as  it  is  understood  by  two  real  French 
women,  Genevieve  and  Marthe,  the  daughter  and 
second  wife  of  Gontier.  The  picture  is  designed  to 
instruct  the  foreigner,  to  correct  the  impression  that 
the  entire  feminine  population  of  France  is  composed 
of  Zazas  and  Sapphos.  The  foreigner  arrives  upon  the 
scene  in  the  person  of  Bartlett,  an  American  from  the 
Far  West,  who  accompanies  Charles,  the  nephew  of 
Gontier.  Charles  has  been  in  Bartlett's  charge  since 
infancy,  and  is  now  come  to  France  to  see  his  father's 
native  land  and  to  visit  his  father,  a  sort  of  hermit, 
who  has  retired  to  live  on  a  property  of  his  own  in  the 
heart  of  the  country.  Bartlett  and  Charles  are  full 
of  false  ideas  about  France  and  French  life  and  they 
show  their  ignorance,  but  they  are  well  received. 


PLAYS  FROM  1901-1909  87 

Marthe  cordially  and  frankly  does  her  best  to  make 
them  feel  at  home  and  Gontier,  whose  business  has 
not  been  progressing,  is  on  the  lookout  for  a  partner. 
Why  not  Bartlett,  the  rich  and  enterprising  American? 

The  second  act  takes  place  in  the  country  house  of 
the  elder  Gontier,  father  of  Charles.  The  hermit 
turns  out  to  be  a  regular  character,  and  the  opening 
scenes  are  full  of  his  amusing  whimsicalities.  A 
romance  is  brewing  between  Charles  and  Genevi£ve. 
Finally  comes  the  scene  between  Bartlett  and  Marthe. 
The  ranchman,  mistaking  the  cordiality  of  the  wife  of 
Gontier,  attempts  to  kiss  her,  and  is  quickly  brought  to 
his  senses  and  begs  her  pardon. 

1  Bartlett  (nonplussed,  in  a  stammering  and  confused 
monologue,  as  if  to  himself).  Forgive  me — je  vous 
demande  pardon  —  I  did  not  know  —  In  fact  —  if 
I  had  —  I  can  only  —  my  —  I  can  only  beg  you  to 
d  m'excuser  —  you  are  such  a  strange  people.  You 
are  vain  of  your  faults  —  des  vantards?  Yes,  vain  of 
your  faults  and  hypocritical  about  your  virtues;  and 
so,  if  people  aren't  warned —  they  take  you  at  your  word 
and  make  des  erreurs  —  they  make  awful  mistakes. 
And  the  worst  thing  about  it  is  we  haven't  the  least 
idea  how  to  make  up  for  them.  I  am  —  I  am  very 
sorry  for  it.  I  am  absolutely  rattled  —  What  can  I 
do?  Must  I  take  myself  off?  What  is  the  proper 
thing  to  do  when  a  man  has  done  what  I  have?  It  is 
most  perplexing  —  I  know  very  well  that  I  can't  re- 
main here?  I  haven't  an  idea  in  what  manner  to  take 


»  In  the  original  this  speech  is  a  mixture  of  French  and  English. 
— Ed. 


88       THE  PLAYS  OF  EUGENE  BRIEUX 

my  leave,  or  how  I  should  have  the  courage  to  look  you 
in  the  face  again.  (He  mops  his  face.) 

Marthe  (after  a  burst  of  laughter).  Go  away  quite 
naturally,  Monsieur  Bartlett,  and  when  we  meet  again 
simply  act  as  if  nothing  of  the  sort  had  happened. 
Your  regrets  are  too  honestly  spoken  not  to  be  sincere; 
and  besides,  there  were  extenuating  circumstances. 
(She  gives  him  her  hand.)  But  don't  make  the  same 
mistake  again,  will  you  ?  (She  goes  out.) 

Everything  ends  happily  in  the  third  act.  Bartlett 
becomes  the  partner  of  Pierre  Gontier  and  lends  his 
financial  support  and  practical  business  experience  to 
the  exploitation  of  his  invention.  Charles  is  to  marry 
Genevi&ve  and  to  settle  down  in  the  land  of  his  fathers. 
An  agreeable  comedy  on  an  interesting  subject.  The 
author  himself  admits  that  something  is  lacking. 

SIMONE.  Play  in  three  acts.  First  produced  at  the 
Com$die  Fran$aise,  April  13,  1908,  and  played  forty 
times. 

The  play  opens  at  the  house  of  Sergeac  in  Saintonge. 
Two  months  before  Sergeac  and  his  wife  Gabrielle  were 
found  one  morning  swimming  in  blood.  Gabrielle 
was  dead,  Sergeac  with  difficulty  was  brought  back  to 
life;  but  he  could  throw  no  light  on  the  mysterious 
affair;  after  an  attack  of  brain  fever  he  can  remember 
nothing;  he  still  writes  to  his  wife  and  cannot  under- 
stand why  there  is  no  reply.  The  affair  is  to  be  in- 
quired into,  Maltre  Chaintreaux  is  summoned  to  advise; 
the  father,  the  father-in-law,  and  the  doctor  discuss 
the  situation  with  him. 

Lorsy  (to  the  elder  M.  de  Sergeac).  There  seems  to 
be  no  question  that  it  is  a  double  suicide. 


PLAYS  FROM  1901-1909  89 

M.  de  Sergeac.  We  really  don't  know  anything  about 
it. 

Chaintreaux.  Shall  we  not,  gentlemen,  first  investi- 
gate such  facts  as  there  are?  Then  we  will  see  what 
conclusions  may  be  drawn  from  them. 

M.  de  Sergeac.     Maitre  Chaintreaux  is  right. 

Lorsy.  Yes,  of  course.  The  twentieth  of  last  Oc- 
tober, which  is  exactly  two  months  ago,  my  son-in-law, 
M.  de  Sergeac,  left  here  about  eight  o'clock  to  take  the 
train  for  Royan.  .  .  .  The  next  morning  our  old 
woman-servant,  Hermance,  went  to  my  daughter's 
bedroom.  She  found  her  lying  on  the  floor  in  her 
nightgown,  dead,  her  throat  pierced  by  the  bullet  of 
a  revolver.  Her  husband  lay  near  by,  apparently 
expiring,  a  bullet  having  entered  his  breast.  That 
was  the  scene.  .  .  . 

M.  de  Sergeac.  It  may  have  been  a  double  suicide, 
or  it  may  have  been  a  crime  of  jealousy. 

Lorsy.  Crime  of  jealousy!  Why,  that  would  be 
impossible. 

Chaintreaux.     Not  so  fast  —  not  so  fast. 

M.  de  Sergeac.  Whatever  the  explanation,  we  felt 
from  the  first  that  it  was  our  duty  to  take  every  pre- 
caution to  prevent  Simone  from  knowing  about  the 
tragedy  which  had  cost  the  life  of  her  mother. 

Lorsy.  You  will  understand  that  it  might  not  only 
have  a  serious  effect  upon  her  youth,  but  conceivably, 
when  she  is  old  enough  to  many  it  might  cause 
difficulties. 

Chaintreaux.  I  approve  your  course  entirely.  How 
old  is  she? 

M.  de  Sergeac.     She  is  six.    As  we  had  to  tell  her 


90       THE  PLAYS  OF  EUGENE  BRIEUX 

that  her  poor  mother  was  no  more,  we  told  her  that 
she  had  died  as  the  result  of  a  fall  while  riding  horse- 
back. We  can  rest  easy  on  that  score  for  the  present. 
But  now  we  are  face  to  face  with  another  problem,  a 
strange,  incredible  and  awful  situation.  My  son, 
though  he  has  recovered  from  his  wound,  has  lost  his 
memory.  .  .  .  He  remembers  everything  up  to  the 
morning  of  the  tragedy.  From  that  time  there  is  an 
utter  blank.  We  had  to  answer  his  questions  with 
some  explanation  as  to  the  cause  of  his  wound.  The 
doctor  advised  that  to  tell  him  the  brutal  truth  might 
jeopardize  his  life.  So  we  told  him  that  he  had  been 
accidentally  shot  at  a  hunt  while  they  were  beating  up 
the  game. 

Lorsy.    And  he  believes  his  wife  is  away  on  a  journey. 

M.  de  Sergeac  (the  father).  That,  then,  is  my  son's 
condition!  The  reason  we  have  called  you  in  is  that 
the  specialist  now  thinks  the  sick  man  is  in  such  a 
condition  that  he  may  be  questioned.  However, 
Dr.  Vergne  is  still  fearful  of  serious  consequences  if 
the  terrible  truth  were  to  come  to  my  boy  first  from  the 
investigating  magistrate  .  .  .  and  as  the  time  for  the 
official  investigation  is  very  near,  we  decided  to  lay 
the  whole  matter  before  you  today  to  enable  you  to 
advise  him  and  ourselves  in  regard  to  what  is  likely 
to  be  brought  out. 

Sergeac  is  brought  in;  the  doctor  by  his  questions 
does  all  he  can  to  awaken  his  memory. 

The  Doctor.  I  am  going  to  help  you  by  your  own 
will  to  recover  your  memory  of  what  has  happened  in 
consecutive  order. 

Sergeac.    I  hope  I  may.    Help  me. 


PLAYS  FROM  1901-1909  91 

The  Doctor.  To  use  your  own  expression,  there  is 
an  "abyss"  in  your  memory.  And  this  abyss  con- 
tinues from  the  twentieth  of  last  October,  the  day  you 
received  the  wound,  up  to  the  moment  you  regained 
consciousness,  on  Thursday. 

Sergeac.    Yes,  Doctor. 

The  Doctor.  Now,  take  yourself  back  to  the  twen- 
tieth of  October.  Use  your  will.  Call  back,  with  as 
great  exactness,  clearness  and  intensity  as  you  are 
capable  of,  the  last  happenings  which  you  remember. 

Sergeac.  Yes,  Doctor.  Let  me  see  —  the  day  I 
was  wounded  in  the  boar  hunt 

The  Doctor.  Excuse  me.  That  is  not  a  direct  recol- 
lection. That  is  a  recollection  of  something  you 
have  been  told. 

Sergeac.  Wasn't  it  so?  Isn't  it  the  truth?  —  I 
distinctly  remember  being  wounded  by  a  shot. 

The  Doctor.  I  will  repeat  my  question.  What 
are  your  last  really  personal  memories?  .  .  .  What 
did  you  do  the  morning  of  October  twentieth?  Did 
you  lead  the  hunt?  Do  you  remember  such  a  thing 
as  that? 

Sergeac.  Yes  —  I  see  the  chase  now.  However,  I 
can't  call  back  the  exact  time  when  I  must  have  been 
shot.  (With  conviction)  Now  I  am  sure  of  it,  it  could 
not  have  been  during  the  beating  up  that  I  was  shot. 

The  Doctor.    Quite  possibly. 

Sergeac.     I  remember  returning  with  Georges.   .  .  . 

The  Doctor.  You  returned  here  with  M.  Georges 
de  Nanchart? 

Sergeac.  Yes.  .  .  .  and  I  came  into  this  room. 
We  —  Wait  —  yes  —  it  is  like  recalling  a  dream. 


92       THE  PLAYS  OT  EUGENE  BRIEUX 

We  dined,  then  we  started  —  George  and  I  —  in  his 
dog  cart  —  I  was  to  take  the  train  for  Paris,  George 
was  going  home.  He  is  a  neighbor  of  ours.  He 
took  me  to  the  station,  and  waited  with  me  until  we 
heard  my  train  coming. 

The  Doctor.    And  then? 

Sergeac.  After  that,  I  can't  remember.  (A  long 
silence.  All  eyes  are  fixed  on  Sergeac,  who  remains 
motionless.)  I  remember  nothing  further.  It  is 
horrible.  I  remember  nothing  further. 

The  Doctor.     Did  you  take  the  train? 

Sergeac.  I  don't  know.  .  .  .  No,  I  did  not  take  the 
train. 

The  Doctor.    Why  not? 

Sergeac  (gravely,  to  himself).     Now  I  know  why. 

The  Doctor.    Tell  us  why  not. 

Sergeac.  No.  An  idea  suddenly  came  to  mind  which 
prevented  me. 

The  Doctor.     What  was  the  idea? 

Sergeac.     It  was  a  private  matter. 

Sergeac  is  overcome  with  terror;  he  falls  heavily, 
but  is  soon  brought  round;  then  he  asks  to  be  told 
everything. 

Sergeac.  Where  is  Gabrielle?  (A  silence.)  Mon- 
sieur de  Lorsy,  is  it  really  true,  what  they  have  told 
me?  Is  it  really  for  Mme.  de  Lorsy  that  you  are  in 
mourning?  Tell  me  —  it  is  not  for  your  daughter? 
Can  it  be?  You  have  seen  her  within  a  short  time? 
Did  she  give  you  one  of  her  sweet  smiles  and  kiss  you 
and  talk  baby-talk  as  she  always  did  when  you  went 
away? 


PLAYS  FROM  1901-1909  93 

M.  de  Lorsy  (sobbing} .  Oh,  my  child !  My  Gabrielle ! 
My  poor  little  one!  My  poor  little  one! 

Sergeac.  You  are  weeping!  (Quietly)  She  is  dead, 
is  she  not?  Yes!  It  came  to  me  back  there  —  Ga- 
brielle is  dead.  .  .  .  (He  remains  silent,  trying  in  vain 
to  remember,  then  clasping  his  head  with  both  hands.) 
You  must  help  me  again.  .  .  .  Doctor,  you  see  I  am 
calm.  Now  that  I  know  she  is  dead,  nothing  can  be 
more  terrible. 

The  Doctor.     Yes. 

Sergeac.     What  can  be? 

The  Doctor.     Think. 

Sergeac.     Could  it  have  been  a  violent  death? 

The  Doctor.     Yes. 

Lorsy  (shaken  by  griej).     Oh!    Oh!    Oh! 

Sergeac.     She  was  murdered? 

The  Doctor.     Yes. 

Sergeac.     By  whom? 

Lorsy  (leaping  at  his  throat).  By  you,  dastard! 
By  you!  (The  doctor  and  M.  de  Sergeac,  the  father, 
separate  Lorsy  from  Sergeac  and  try  to  calm  him.) 

Sergeac  (in  an  exalted  voice).  Yes!  Yes!  by  me! 
It  was  by  me!  Now  I  see,  I  know  —  The  veil  has 
suddenly  been  torn  aside  —  Yes,  it  was  I!  Yes,  it 
was  I! 

Lorsy.     Ah!  the  dastard! 

Sergeac.  Yes,  I  killed  her!  And  it  was  an  act  of 
justice! 

Lorsy.  Justice!  He  says  that  —  Oh!  Oh!  You 
let  him  call  it  justice! 

The  Doctor  (to  Sergeac,  the  father).  Take  him  away. 
Take  him  away. 


94       THE  PLAYS  OF  EUGENE  BRIEUX 

Lorsy  (going  out  with  the  elder  Sergeac).  He  killed  my 
child,  and  he  calls  it  an  act  of  justice  — the  wretch! 

Sergeac  (hallucinated).    Yes,  justice! 

Lorsy.    He  is  a  murderer! 

Sergeac  (pointing  to  the  door  at  the  left).  It  was  there 
—  there  —  they  were  there;  she  threw  herself  down 
before  him  — 

Lorsy.    He  is  a  murderer!    He  is  a  murderer! 

Sergeac.  He  ran  away  —  like  a  dog  that  fears  the 
whip.  (He  makes  the  motion  of  drawing  a  revolver  and 
firing.)  I  —  I  —  I  did  justice. 

Such  an  act  of  justice  is  sanctioned,  not  only  by  the 
famous  "Tue-la"  of  Dumas  fils,1  but  also  by  article 
324  of  the  Penal  Code.2  M.  Brieux  cannot  accept  this 
as  justice.  For  him  "murder  is  murder,"  murder  is 
not  made  excusable  by  being  called  "un  crime  passion- 
net."  "Though  no  crime  committed  in  the  passion 
of  love  may  deserve  the  death  penalty,  none  should 
be  excused  —  certainly  not  murder."8 

After  the  lengthy  quotation  it  need  hardly  be  said 
that  the  effect  of  this  first  act  is  strong,  not  to  say  pain- 
ful, that  the  case  is  put  dramatically  without  a  touch  of 
didacticism.  And,  once  more,  there  is  the  child  to  be 
thought  of.  What  of  Simone? 

The  second  act  shows  Sergeac  and  Simone  settled  in 
a  villa  on  the  coast  of  the  Mediterranean.  Years  have 
passed.  The  tragedy  of  the  first  act  is  apparently 
forgotten.  Sergeac  has  devoted  himself  to  the  edu- 

1  Preface  de  La  Femme  de  Claude. 

*  Article  324  of  the  Penal  Code  declares  excusable  murder  of  a 
wife  by  her  husband,  as  well  as  murder  of  the  lover,  when  surprised 
en  flagrant  delit  in  the  conjugal  dwelling. 

»  M.  Brieux  —  at  an  interview. 


PLAYS  FROM  1901-1909  95 

cation  of  his  daughter.  The  memory  of  her  mother 
has  been  kept  sacred.  Simone,  of  course,  has  not  been 
told  the  truth.  Returning,  after  long  wanderings  in 
the  East,  Sergeac  lives  a  retired  life,  given  up  to  the 
study  of  Oriental  religions.  Simone  helps  him;  they 
are  happy  in  a  life  of  fellowship  and  collaboration. 
Michel  Mignier  and  Simone  have  mutually  declared 
their  love,  but  are  not  yet  betrothed.  Michel  is  a 
young  man  of  promise  with  a  bent  for  philosophy. 
The  two  are  fitly  matched.  All  is  well.  Suddenly, 
Mignier  p£re  returns  from  Paris  and  abruptly  breaks 
off  all  relations  between  the  two  families.  He  has 
learnt  the  family  secret.  Sergeac  has  to  tell  Simone 
that  the  marriage  cannot  be  arranged.  Naturally 
Simone  must  know  why.  Moved  by  her  great  sorrow, 
the  father  asks  her  pardon,  thus  inculpating  himself. 

Sergeac.  Oh,  how  terribly  you  must  suffer!  Forgive 
me !  Simone,  forgive  me !  (He  kneels  before  his  daughter.) 

Simone.  You  ask  me  to  forgive  you!  Then,  is 
it  for  your  fault? 

Sergeac.  No,  no!  What  can  you  mean?  What 
will  you  imagine  —  Oh,  God! 

He  will  tell  her  nothing  and,  regaining  his  self-pos- 
session, succeeds  in  making  Simone  swear  that  she 
will  never  seek  to  discover  the  details  of  the  drama 
which  he  admits  that  he  is  hiding  from  her,  and  of 
which  she  must  always  be  kept  in  ignorance. 

In  the  last  act  Simone  has  learnt  the  truth  from 
Hermance,  an  old  servant.  Her  father's  crime  is 
horrible  to  her;  she  can  live  with  him  no  longer  and 
tells  him  she  is  going  away. 

Sergeac.    You  only  wish  to  leave  me? 


96      THE  PLAYS  OF  EUGENE  BRIEUX 

Simone.    That  is  it,  yes. 

Sergeac.     Why? 

Simone.     Consider! 

Serge ac  (after  a  long  silence,  with  alarm).  Oh,  God! 
I  am  afraid  to  understand!  (He  goes  towards  his  daugh- 
ter with  hands  outstretched.)  My  child! 

Simone  (drawing  back).     Father! 

Sergeac.  I  would  not  hurt  you,  my  child.  (Simone 
looks  at  her  father's  hands,  transfixed  with  terror.) 

Simone  (in  a  low  voice).  Oh!  (Sergeac  follows  'his 
daughter's  look,  understands,  and  slowly  hides  his  hands.) 

Sergeac.    Hermance  —  has  —  told  you  ? 

Simone.    Yes. 

Sergeac.  And  that  is  why  —  why  you  —  want  to 
leave  me? 

Simone.    Yes.     (A  long  look  passes  between  them.) 

Sergeac.    Then  ? 

Simone.    Oh,  wretched  man!    Oh,  wretched  man! 

This  painful  situation  was  too  much  for  the  audience 
at  the  r$p$tition  gGnGrale;  accordingly  the  ending  was 
softened;  Simone  forgives  her  father. 

This  is  the  most  dramatic  play  since  La  Robe  Rouge  — 
the  thesis  is  completely  absorbed  in  the  action.  M. 
Brieux  is  back  on  his  own  ground,  reacting  from  an 
idea  towards  common  human  feeling. 

SUZETTE.  Play  in  three  acts.  First  produced 
September  28,  1909,  at  the  The&tre  du  Vaudeville, 
and  played  fifty  times  in  1909. 

In  this  play  M.  Brieux  returns  to  the  situation  of  the 
child  of  parents  who  have  separated,  a  theme  already 
treated  in  Le  Berceau  and  La  Dfcerteuse.  Suzette  is 
the  daughter  of  Henri  Chambert,  the  son  of  a  "  magis- 


PLAYS  FROM  1901-1909  97 

trat. "  Chambert  is  not  a  downright  villain,  but  light, 
selfish,  unscrupulous  in  pleasure  and  business,  and 
weak  enough  to  be  easily  influenced  by  his  narrow- 
minded  parents.  Chambert  has  married  Regine  Gua- 
dagne,  a  woman  of  some  elegance  and  with  a  taste  for 
society  frivolities,  and  by  no  means  persona  grata  in 
the  eyes  of  her  husband's  parents.  They  regard  her 
as  a  stranger,  mistrust  her,  and  consider  her  no  fit 
person  to  have  the  care  of  their  beloved  grandchild 
Suzette.  They  watch  their  opportunity.  One  day 
Henri  Chambert,  though  no  model  of  conjugal  fidelity 
himself,  is  outraged  at  the  sight  of  a  man  kissing  his 
wife.  He  takes  the  worst  for  granted,  makes  a  scene, 
and  Regine,  at  bay,  hurls  back  at  him  in  front  of  the 
servants:  "Yes,  I  have  a  lover."  This  is  not  tech- 
nically true.  Chambert  is  dissuaded  by  his  parents 
from  fighting  a  duel,  but  they  take  good  care  that  the 
wife  is  not  forgiven;  he  must  divorce  her  and  retain 
custody  of  the  child. 

In  the  second  act  Re*gine  has  carried  off  Suzette 
to  the  home  of  her  own  father,  a  retired  naval  officer, 
who  lives  with  his  two  remaining  daughters,  Myriam 
and  Solange.  They  live  in  a  studio-apartment  and 
everybody  works.  Guadagne  is  of  an  energetic 
disposition  and  does  not  believe  that  girls  should  be 
idle.  The  family  atmosphere  is  in  very  strong  con- 
trast with  that  of  the  famille  Chambert.  Guadagne 
receives  Re"gine  with  open  arms.  Chambert  tracks  her 
down.  In  the  scene  which  follows  Regine  explains 
that  she  had  certainly  carried  the  flirtation  rather 
far,  but  that  she  is  not  really  guilty,  and  she  asks  his 
pardon.  Chambert,  by  this  time  sufficiently  under 


98       THE  PLAYS  OF  EUGENE  BRIEUX 

his  mother's  influence,  definitely  refuses.  When  all 
her  pleadings  and  arguments  fail,  Re*gine  threatens 
that  if  they  attempt  to  execute  their  plan  of  separating 
her  from  Suzette  she  will  defend  herself.  She  will 
make  public  a  fraudulent  act  committed  by  her  husband 
in  the  matter  of  a  large  government  contract.  Still 
Chambert  is  obstinate  and  the  child  is  taken  from  the 
mother  by  a  " commissaire  de  police"  and  a  "huissier." 
In  the  last  act  we  find  Suzette  the  victim  of  the  con- 
jugal dispute,  tortured  by  her  grandmbre  Chambert, 
who  does  her  best  to  make  the  child  think  ill  of  her 
mother  and  compels  her  to  write  curt  letters  to  R6gine. 
The  av ou§  and  the  avocat  do  all  they  can  (for  professional 
reasons)  to  keep  the  case  going.  At  the  end  of  the  play 
Re*gine,  worn  out  with  the  struggle,  comes  to  give  her 
consent  to  anything  in  order  to  save  Suzette  from  being 
tossed  about  from  pillar  to  post. 

R6gine.  I  prefer  to  give  you  my  child  rather  than 
run  the  risk  of  seeing  her  become  chronically  ill,  as 
she  may  if  we  continue  to  struggle  for  her.  I  must 
throw  myself  on  your  generosity.  I  ask  you  not  to 
teach  her  to  despise  me.  .  .  .  You  shall  tell  me  when 
it  is  your  pleasure  that  I  may  see  her  —  I  give  her  up  — 
My  love  would  cost  her  too  dearly.  I  am  discouraged, 
worn  out,  beaten.  That  is  what  you  have  done  to  me. 
Good-bye  —  Good-bye,  Henry. 

Henry.     Father,  speak  to  her 

Chambert.  You  have  touched  us  both  deeply  —  we 
—  we  —  thank  you  for 

R6gine.  Oh,  it  is  too  bad  that  I  should  have  been 
treated  as  a  stranger  here,  as  an  intruder  —  I  would 
only  have  wished  to  love  you  all.  But  it  is  useless  to 


PLAYS  FROM  1901-1909  99 

talk  of  that  —  You  will  write  to  me,  one  or  another  of 
you 

Henry.  I  will  never  consent  to  your  going  away  like 
this! 

They  forgive  each  other,  even  the  parents  are  rec- 
onciled, and  the  tearful  play  closes  with  a  sort  of 
benediction  from  Chambert  p£re: — 

"  Father,  mother,  and  their  child,  are  a  sacred  trinity. 
Nothing  must  be  allowed  to  separate  them." 


Chapter  VI 

Brieux  and  the  Social  Play 

A  I AHE  social  play  of  today,  the  play  of  M.  Brieux, 
•*•  has  a  long  and  complicated  genealogical  table. 
To  tell  the  story  of  its  growth  it  would  be  necessary  to 
go  back  to  Becque,  Augier,  Dumas  fils  and  Diderot, 
and  to  include  to  some  extent  that  great  body  of  social 
literature  for  which  the  name  of  Balzac  stands. 

The  social  play  is  a  development  of  the  comedie 
sfrieuse  and  the  piece  ci  these —  it  is  not  necessary  to 
distinguish  between  a  piece  &  these  and  a  piece  sociale; 
a  piece  d  I hese  may  be  a  piece  sociale  —  in  fact,  the  social 
play,  as  M.  Brieux  understands  it,  generally  is  a  piece 
d  these. 

The  social  play  was  defined  by  Professor  Lanson,  at 
a  consultation,  thus:  — 

"When  different  passions  are  at  strife  within  a  given 
sphere  of  social  interests,  and  attention  is  naturally 
centred  upon  the  social  interests  rather  than  upon 
the  individual  passions,  the  play  is  a  social  one." 

The  centre  of  interest  shifts  from  the  characters  to 
the  conditions.  The  ideal  of  Diderot  has  become  the 
fashion  of  the  hour;  after  having  been  forgotten  for 
nearly  a  century  it  was  taken  up  by  Dumas  fils  (un- 
wittingly), developed  by  Augier  and  Becque,  and  has  at 
last  become  a  vitally  important  dramatic  form  —  nor 

100 


BRIEUX  AND  THE  SOCIAL  PLAY       101 

has  it  stopped  developing  yet.  It  follows  from  the 
definition  given  above  that  the  characters  of  the  social 
play  are  less  clearly  defined  than  those  of  a  tragedy 
of  passion  of  Shakespeare  or  a  comedie  de  caractere  of 
Moli£re.  It  seems  hardly  fitting  to  condemn  the  form 
for  a  vagueness  which  is  not  only  a  reflection  of  the 
atmosphere  of  our  time  but  is  also  appropriate  to  the 
end  aimed  at.  To  criticize  Mr.  Galsworthy  or  M. 
Brieux  by  comparison  with  Shakespeare  or  Moli£re 
is  "hitting  below  the  intellect." 

The  tone  of  a  play  depends  necessarily  on  the  mind 
that  conceives  it.  The  high  seriousness  of  Mr.  Gals- 
worthy's Justice  is  in  keeping  with  Mr.  Galsworthy's 
conception  of  things.  To  him  the  social  machine  is  a 
pitiless  monster  against  which  the  individual  has  no 
chance  —  no  more  chance  than  has  (Edipus  against 
destiny.  For  M.  Brieux  the  social  machine  is  not 
invincible  —  he  is  for  revolt;  he  is  for  smashing  the 
platform  and  getting  back  to  the  solid  ground;  he 
will  not  submit  to  the  machine,  for  him  man  is  master 
of  the  machine.  The  hero  of  Justice  dies,  but  in  La 
Robe  Rouge  the  heroine  kills  her  judge.  The  plays  of 
M.  Brieux  do  not  lend  themselves  to  a  formal  classifica- 
tion, the  author's  sense  of  form  being  poor.  They  are 
serious  plays,  but  have  not  the  high  seriousness  of 
Justice.  What  Professor  Lanson  says  of  the  work  of 
Corneille1  is,  on  the  whole,  true  of  the  work  of  M. 
Brieux: "  It  is  drama  of  a  serious  and  downright  charac- 
ter, an  intermediate  type  between  high  comedy  and 
tragedy." 

The  moment  at  which  M.  Brieux  began  writing  is 

1  Lanson,  Corneille.    Hachette,  p.  50. 


IO2     THE  PLAYS  OF  EUGENE  BRIEUX 

important;  it  shows  what  he  reacts  from.  Just  as  he 
reacted  towards  literary  craftmanship  from  all  the 
artistic  twaddle  of  the  eighties  and  nineties,  so  he 
reacted  from  the  unwholesome  hothouse  stuff  which 
filled  most  of  the  Parisian  theatres.  Coming  as  he  did 
from  the  open  air,  with  a  keen  relish  for  life  as  he  knew 
it,  it  occurred  to  him  that  it  might  be  possible  to  make  a 
play  out  of  something  other  than  adulterous  senti- 
mentalities. For  a  model  he  went  back  to  Augier,  to 
Les  Effrontes  and  Le  Fils  de  Giboyer. 

He  does  not  really  belong  to  the  school  of  Henri 
Becque,  he  was  too  hearty  a  man  to  accept  the  leader- 
ship of  such  an  embittered  egoist  as  Becque. 

He  does  not  really  belong  to  the  Th6dtre  Libre;1  at 
first  he  worked  in  the  atmosphere  of  the  Thtdtre  Libre, 
but  he  was  never  in  his  element  there.  He  wears  the 
coat  of  pessimism  but  he  looks  rather  ridiculous  in  it, 
like  an  athlete  who  has  slipped  on  a  black  frock  coat 
over  his  "  things "  to  hurry  to  a  funeral.  But  he  learnt 
a  good  deal  at  the  Th^dtre  Libre  —  he  learnt  how  to 
situate  his  characters  in  their  milieu,  how  to  make 

1  What  the  ThSdtre  Libre  was  at  this  time  may  be  judged  by  the 
following  passage  by  Lemaitre  apropos  of  L'Honneur,  a  play  by  M. 
Henri  FeVre,  produced  about  the  same  time  as  Menages  <T  Artistes: 
"I  begin  to  see  that  the  The&tre  Libre  is  somewhat  given  to  repetition, 
and  that  moreover,  it  is  too  often  not  so  true  to  life  as  it  thinks  itself. 
In  the  first  place,  they  ring  the  changes  with  rather  too  much  gusto 
on  what  is  really  a  single  topic,  or  nearly  so:  the  moral  depravity, 
the  selfishness,  the  hypocrisy,  the  stupidity,  and  the  heartlessness 
of  the  middle  or  business  classes.  .  .  .  However  ignoble,  and  however 
weak  the  men,  the  women  portrayed  there  are  generally  still  more 
unworthy  and  despicable.  The  men  retain  here  and  there  some 
relic  of  conscience,  some  idea  of  right  and  wrong,  some  sentiment 
of  justice  and  pity.  But  the  women  are  hopelessly  wicked  and 
unmoral.  The  authors  of  the  plays  can  forgive  none  but  the  fallen 
woman."  (Lemaitre,  Impressions,  6me.  Serie.) 


BRIEUX  AND  THE  SOCIAL  PLAY       103 

detail  tell  on  the  stage.  He  was  probably  always  very 
observant,  even  in  the  most  high-minded  Chateaubriand 
days  of  his  boyhood;  his  career  as  a  journalist  exercised 
this  faculty  for  observation;  at  the  Th£dtre  Libre  he 
learnt  how  to  make  dramatic  use  of  detail.  For  Dumas 
fils  he  had  an  innate  dislike;  all  the  brilliancy,  the 
straining  after  brilliant  effects,  and  the  romantic,  un- 
sound, overheated  imagination  M.  Brieux  resents,  he 
reacts  from  it.  Simone  is  a  definite  and  remarkable 
instance  of  reaction  from  Dumas  fils,  but  the  reaction 
is  not  restricted  to  this  specific  case,  it  is  general  all 
along  the  line.  With  the  exception  of  a  few  plays, 
such  as  Le  Fils  Naturel  and  La  Question  £  Argent, 
Dumas  fils  is  of  no  use  to  M.  Brieux.  But  for  Giboyer 
M.  Brieux  has  all  the  use  in  the  world.  He  embraces 
him  with  enthusiasm,  takes  him  to  his  heart  like  a 
brother.  Thus  M.  Brieux  becomes  the  natural  son 
of  Augier.1  Giboyer  is  the  voice  of  the  indomitable 
man  under  the  platform,  of  the  slave  to  the  machine 
who  serves  because  he  must,  but  whose  spirit  is  not 
broken,  and  he  speaks  with  a  directness  that  makes  M. 
Brieux  nod  his  head  approvingly  at  every  word.  What 
M.  Brieux  likes  above  all  in  his  master,  Augier,  is  his 
simple  honesty. 

The  social  play  begins  with  Augier.  The  stage 
usually  lags  behind  the  general  literary  movement. 
What  the  roman  social  had  already  achieved  twenty 
years  earlier  in  the  hands  of  Balzac  was  now  to  be 
attempted  in  the  theatre  by  Augier.  At  first  he  used 
the  term  comedie  politique  —  a  kind  of  play  that  had 

1  "For  Augier  I  have  the  sentiments  of  a  son."  Augier  was  not 
an  appreciative  father. 


IO4     THE  PLAYS  OF  EUGENE  BRIEUX 

been  neglected  since  the  time  of  BeaumarchaSs  —  but 
Augier  soon  repudiated  the  name  for  com6die  sociale. 
Augier,  following  Balzac,  fully  realized  the  social  im- 
portance of  the  question  d1  argent.  Les  Effrontts  and  Le 
Fils  de  Giboyer  are  full  of  it.  The  most  notable  passages 
is  in  Les  Effrontes,  where  the  Marquis  d'Auberive 
says:  — 

"What  impresses  me  as  amusing  in  your  Revolution 
is  that  it  did  not  realize  that  in  striking  down  the  no- 
bility it  was  striking  down  the  only  power  that  could 
punish  wealth.  The  year  eighty-nine  was  enacted 
to  the  sole  profit  of  our  business  managers  and  of  their 
offspring.  You  have  substituted  plutocracy  for  aris- 
tocracy. As  to  democracy,  that  will  be  an  empty  word 
until,  like  the  good  Lycurgus,  you  shall  have  adopted 
a  money  of  bronze  too  heavy  to  gamble  with." 

M.  Brieux  continues  the  campaign  against  plutocracy. 
To  him  democracy  is  not  a  word  empty  of  meaning  — 
he  has  faith  in  the  power  of  democracy  to  fight  plutoc- 
racy —  he  believes  it  can  found  its  strength  on  an  ideal 
of  human  fellowship  working  for  the  common  good. 
He  seeks  this  ideal,  not  in  a  vague  dream  of  the  future, 
but  in  the  experience  of  humanity  as  it  grows.  He  is 
reactionary  rather  than  progressive;  he  believes  in 
tradition,  though  he  is  no  aristocrat;  aristocrat  and 
plebeian  join  hands. 

For  his  stand  M.  Brieux  generally  goes  back  to  the 
nearest  point  of  departure  common  to  his  fellows. 

There  are  many  differences  between  M.  Brieux  and 
Augier  —  differences  in  technique,  quality  of  dialogue, 
use  of  asides,  and  complexity  of  intrigue  (M.  Brieux 
throws  over  the  intrigue  of  Scribe).  But  there  is  one 


BRIEUX  AND  THE  SOCIAL  PLAY       105 

more  important  difference  still  —  a  fundamental  differ- 
ence in  attitude.  Augier  contemplates  the  struggle 
against  plutocracy  with  a  faint  heart,  regretting  the 
past,  the  old  order  that  is  disappearing  in  chaos.  M. 
Brieux  contemplates  it  angrily,  strong  in  his  faith  for 
the  future,  bidding  plutocracy  begone;  it,  to  him,  is 
the  old  order  or,  rather,  no  order  at  all,  but  a  thing 
without  any  ideal,  a  compromise  full  of  hypocrisies, 
played  out,  effete,  M.  Brieux  dreams  of  an  improved 
society  in  the  future,  but  he  is  willing  to  take  men  as 
they  are  if  only  they  realize  their  situation  and  try  to 
understand  each  other1  instead  of  trying  to  make  fools 
of  each  other,  the  result  of  which  is  that  they  are  so 
afraid  of  being  made  fools  of  that  they  dare  not  stir. 
Augier  and  M.  Brieux  campaign  against  the  same  thing 
from  different  sides. 

Giboyer  is  disguised  as  a  declasse,  a  Bohemian;  none 
the  less  he  is  the  voice  of  the  Paris  plebs,  just  as  was 
the  Spanish  barber,  the  hero  of  the  Revolution,  Figaro, 
whom  Giboyer  so  much  resembles.  The  torch  he 
carries  has  been  caught  up  by  M.  Brieux.  So  clearly 
marked  is  this  that  Blanchette  is  a  continuation  of  the 
tirade  against  education  in  Scene  4  of  the  third  act  of 
Les  Effrontes: 

Le  Marquis.  You  don't  think  the  benefits  of  educa- 
tion are  to  be  despised  ? 

Giboyer.     It  led  me  far  afield. 

Le  Marquis.    You  surprise  me. 

Giboyer.    As  long  as  my  student  days  lasted  I  was 

1  Cf.  Discours  de  M.  Eugene  Brieux  on  his  reception  at  the 
Academy,  May  12,  1900.  "But  Hal&vy  put  into  practice  the  coble 
motto  of  the  great  philosopher-poet,  Jean  Marie  Guyau:  'To 
Jove  all  is  to  understand  all;  to  understand  all  is  to  forgive  all.'" 


the  cock  of  the  roost.  I  carried  off  all  the  prizes  — 
and  all  the  dried-up  doctors  courted  your  humble 
servant  as  a  drawing  card.  It  was  so  to  such  an  extent 
that  having  won  the  competitive  prize  in  philosophy, 
I  was  given  a  special  chamber  with  permission  to 
smoke  and  to  stay  away  nights.  But  the  day  after 
receiving  my  bachelor's  degree  I  had  to  come  down. 

Le  Marquis.     Your  benefactor  left  you  in  the  lurch? 

Giboyer.  Oh,  no!  He  offered  me  a  position  as 
teacher  at  six  hundred  francs,  but  he  took  away  the 
special  chamber,  the  pipe,  and  the  ten-hour  leaves. 
That  couldn't  last.  I  dropped  teaching,  and  took 
my  chances,  full  of  confidence  in  my  powers  and  never 
suspecting  that  the  highway  of  education  in  which 
our  pretty  society  allows  so  many  poor  devils  to  be 
swallowed  up,  like  a  blind  alley,  leads  nowhere. 

This  last  phrase  is  the  very  text  of  Blanchette. 

It  is  the  true  comtdie  sociale  that  M.  Brieux  continues, 
not  the  com$die  politique.  The  distinction  between  the 
two  is  marked  from  the  first  by  Augier:  — 

"Whatever  may  have  been  said  about  it,  this  comedy 
is  not  a  political  play  in  the  ordinary  sense  of  the  word. 
It  is  a  social  drama.  It  attacks  and  defends  only  ideas, 
drawn  from  all  forms  of  government."1 

It  cannot  be  too  emphatically  stated  that  M.  Brieux 
is  not  a  socialist  party  politician.  When  he  attacks 
the  bourgeois  ideas  he  does  not  attack  them  because  they 
are  bourgeois,  he  attacks  them  because  to  him  they  are 
bad  ideas  prevalent  under  the  bourgeois  regime.  For 
all  that  the  bourgeois  remains  a  human  being  to  him. 
He  does  not  split  humanity  up  into  human  beings  and 
1  Le  Fils  de  Giboyer.  Preface  de  la  premiere  Edition. 


BRIEUX  AND  THE  SOCIAL  PLAY       107 

bourgeois.  His  democracy  includes  the  bourgeois  but 
not  the  hypocritical  ideas.  Nor  does  he  put  the 
bourgeois  always  in  the  wrong;  he  does  not  always  give 
the  beau  rdle  to  the  plebeian.  There  are  extenuating 
circumstances  even  for  a  Reboval;  the  men  of  the 
Landrecy  foundry  who  threaten  to  strike  (in  Les 
Bienfaiteurs)  are  shown  up  in  their  true  light.  His 
propaganda  is  neither  for  party  nor  for  class;  it  is 
human  propaganda,  for  the  man  against  the  machine. 
"Monsieur  Brieux,  as  opposed  to  many  of  our  most 
brilliant  writers,  distinguishes  very  surely  and  very 
clearly  between  right  and  wrong,  and  he  likes  to  let 
us  know  very  pointedly  that  he  does  make  this  distinc- 
tion. There  is  something  of  Poor  Richard,  or  of  a 
Simon  of  Mantua  about  him;  for  he  is  not  a  seeker 
after  elusive  or  unusual  subjects,  he  has  no  distrust 
of  familiar  moral  questions,  and  in  this  he  is  right! 
All  his  plays  are  didactical  comedies  —  I  might  almost 
say  morality  plays  and  sixteenth  century  satires. 
'  Poor  girls  must  not  be  so  educated  as  to  alienate  them 
from  all  the  social  bonds  of  their  class.'  (Blanchette.) 
'Pharisaism,  though  honest,  is  not  a  virtue.'  (M. 
de  Rtboval.)  'Politics  is  an  insidious  corrupter  of 
good  morals.'  (UEngrenage.)  Each  play  is  from 
first  to  last,  and  without  interruption,  a  methodical 
demonstration  of  such  a  truth  as  these.  Thereby  he 
would  remind  one  a  little  too  much  of  that  vexatious 
man,  Boursault,  or  the  laborious  Destouches,  if  it  were 
not  that  he  makes  us  think  still  more,  by  his  simplicity 
and  by  the  freshness  of  his  dramatic  talent,  of  that 
admirable  stone-carver,  Sedaine,  whom  he  resembles, 
moreover,  in  his  want  of  style.  But  here  is  where  he 


io8   THE  PLAYS  OF  EUGENE  BRIEUX 

is  especially  original  —  he  is  actuated  by  a  spirit,  which 
is  not  bold  (that  is  common  enough),  but  brave;  he 
comes  to  the  study  of  far-reaching  questions,  of  those 
which  concern  the  entire  human  family,  in  the  manner 
of  a  self-appointed  teacher,  with  hopeful  spirit,  an 
honest  judgment,  and  a  warm  heart.  At  the  same 
time,  this  honest  preacher  is  a  very  true  observer,  very 
careful,  and  possessed  of  remarkable  understanding  of 
average  humanity.  And  so  he  gives,  in  an  incredible 
degree,  to  the  most  discouraging  of  subjects,  the  touch 
of  light  and  color.  His  'morality  plays'  are  lifelike; 
and  that  is  the  wonder  of  it."1 

The  prfaheur  candide  and  the  observateur  tr&s  veridique 
continue  to  keep  each  other  company  throughout  the 
work  of  M.  Brieux.  The  social  play  of  M.  Brieux  never 
develops  beyond  the  propagandist  stage. 

It  can  no  longer  be  denied  that  the  stage  is  a  useful 
means  of  propagating  ideas  that  are  established  as 
sound  but  which  are  not  yet  common  property.  M. 
Brieux  claims  the  right  to  make  use  of  the  stage  for 
purposes  other  than  dramatic,  for  the  purpose  of  making 
known  to  the  masses  ideas  invented  or  upheld  by 
philosophers  and  savants.2  This  is  his  mission,  this  is 
what  prompts  him  to  sermonize.  The  tendency  to 
sermonize  is  constant  throughout  the  work  of  M. 
Brieux;  at  times  the  sermon  is  sufficiently  absorbed  in 
the  dramatic  theme,  at  times  it  so  dominates  the 

1  Lemaltre,  Impressions,  Xme.  SeYie,  p.  14.  This  passage,  written 
apropos  of  Les  Bienfaiteurs,  is  a  true  estimate  of  the  author  of  the 
plays  which  precede  Les  Trois  Filles  de  M.  Dupont.  What  Lemaitre 
thinks  of  the  man  who  wrote  this  latter  play  may  be  seen  from  the 
quotation  on  pp.  42, 43,44. 

*  "Herbert  Spencer  est  It  mattre  de  mon  esprit"  (M.  Brieux, 
interview.) 


BRIEUX  AND  THE  SOCIAL  PLAY       109 

dramatic  theme  as  to  reduce  the  play  to  a  didactic 
dialogue;  the  latter  is  too  often  the  case  in  the  later 
plays,  e.g.,  Les  Avaries,  to  take  the  extreme  example. 
For  such  plays  M.  Brieux  has  been  severely  censured; 
even  by  those  who  admit  that  his  aims  are  good  and  his 
views  sound,  it  is  argued  that  a  play  is  not  an  appro- 
priate medium,  nor  the  theatre  the  appropriate  place 
for  them;  that  they  would  be  more  acceptable  if 
preached  from  the  pulpit,  or  published  as  tracts,  pam- 
phlets, and  scientific  articles. 

M.  Brieux  would  not  deny  the  claims  of  the  pulpit 
and  tract  —  Les  AvariGs  itself  was  read  from  a  pulpit 
in  Geneva  —  but  he  would  claim  an  equal  right  for  the 
stage  to  treat  such  subjects,  if  not  a  superior  right, 
because  it  is  of  greater  use  for  propaganda  work,  the 
audience  appealed  to  being  numerically  greater,  and 
(what  is  more  important)  out  of  the  reach  of  pulpit  and 
pamphlet.  The  public  that  will  not  go  to  church  and 
will  not  take  the  trouble  to  read  will  go  to  the  theatre. 
Furthermore,  it  is  too  late  to  object  that  the  theatre 
is  primarily  a  place  of  amusement;  this  may  be  true, 
but  it  does  not  rule  out  serious  plays.  The  stage  may 
be  only  secondarily  a  place  for  a  serious  play,  but  the 
serious  play  has  been  a  success  on  the  stage,  witness 
La  Robe  Rouge,  ergo  the  stage  can  be  used  for  such  a 
purpose. 

There  remains  one  ground  for  criticism  —  that  such 
a  play  as  Les  AvariGs  is  dramatically  deficient.  Such 
criticism  is  just.  Les  Avaries  is  a  poor  play.  But  it  is 
unjust  to  argue  from  such  a  play  that  M.  Brieux  is  no 
dramatist.  Time  and  again  he  has  shown  that  he  is  a 
dramatist  of  great  power  and  skill,  and  even  among 


no     THE  PLAYS  OF  EUGENE  BRIEUX 

the  later  plays  are  to  be  found  Les  Hannetons  and 
Simone,  to  prove  that  the  author  of  Maternit6  and  Les 
Avari&s  has  not  lost  his  sense  of  dramatic  values. 

It  is  easy  to  refer  to  the  influence  of  a  contemporary 
writer,  nothing  is  more  difficult  than  to  determine  that 
influence.  On  the  whole  the  influence  of  M.  Brieux 
seems  to  be  reactionary  rather  than  progressive.  He 
has  been  called  the  "policeman  of  letters." 

"From  a  comprehensive  viewpoint,  it  is  in  fact 
difficult  to  acknowledge  any  influence  whatever  upon 
the  general  evolution  of  ideas,  whether  in  art,  in  philos- 
ophy, or  even  in  morals,  as  proceeding  from  the  prob- 
lem plays  of  M.  Brieux.  M.  Brieux  does  not  fight  in 
the  vanguard,  he  does  not  endeavor  to  generalize  his 
thought;  he  attacks  such  evils  as  he  sees  on  the  highway 
of  life  and  regards  as  clearly  wrong,  in  the  present 
order  of  society.  He  is  the  guardian  of  law  and  order 
in  letters."1 

The  conclusion  to  this  history  cannot  yet  be  written; 
the  career  of  M.  Brieux  is  not  finished.  Who  knows 
what  he  may  yet  do?  This  study  must  necessarily  be 
inconclusive.  La  Foi  and  La  Femme  Seule  have  not 
even  been  touched  on.  The  body  of  work  herein 
considered  is  sufficient  to  establish  his  reputation;  his 
career  is  a  remarkable  and  an  honorable  one;  it  seems 
perfectly  safe  to  say  that  one  of  the  plays,  at  least  — 
La  Robe  Rouge  —  is  as  good  as  anything  in  the  dramatic 
production  of  contemporary  France. 

It  must  be  left  to  chance  and  to  posterity  to  choose 
masterpieces  and  immortals;  the  plays  of  M.  Brieux 
are  important  today,  at  any  rate,  whatever  their  future 

1  Commedia  Illustree,  October  15,  1909. 


BRIEUX  AND  THE  SOCIAL  PLAY       in 

may  be.  Whatever  may  be  their  literary  worth,  they 
certainly  have  theatrical  value,  and  they  furnish  social 
documents  of  considerable  significance. 

M.  Brieux  is  a  representative  man.  He  is  fond  of 
privacy,  but  he  is  not  isolated.  He  shares  frankly  and 
fully  the  life  of  the  community.  He  focusses  the  best 
aspirations  of  a  large  body  of  his  fellows.  He  draws 
his  inspiration  from  the  muddy  depths  of  the  demo- 
cratic conscience  —  no  easy  thing  to  do  —  no  futile 
thing  to  have  done. 

THE   END 


BLANCHETTE 

AND 

THE  ESCAPE 

By  EUGENE   BRIEUX 


Translated  by  F.  Eisemann 
Preface  by  Henry  L.  Mencken 


1  Volume,  Cloth,  $1.25  net 


JOHN  W.  LUCE  &  COMPANY 

212  Summer  Street 
BOSTON 


THE  LIBRARY 
UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA 

Santa  Barbara 


THIS  BOOK  IS  DUE  ON  THE  LAST  DATE 
STAMPED  BELOW. 


UC  SOUTHERN  REGIONAL  LIBRARY  FACILITY 


A     000802216     2 


